The Bunker
by AshlaTi
Summary: Seven Stormtroopers are surrounded in a bunker by rebels during the Galactic Civil War, when they hear about tunnels beneath the place and some mystic events that occured there, they begin to go insane... Please R
1. Chapter 1

**I don't own Star Wars, George Lucas does. Not making any money off of this, please don't sue, but feel free to read and review.**

"THE BUNKER"

It's merely the span of a single lifetime since hell was last visited upon the galaxy…...

PROLOGUE: 6 ABY

An unfinished section of tunnel carved through bare earth, braced with pit-props and shored with timber. Rubble and wood and construction equipment were scattered all around. Dim work-lights were strung along the roof, but barely illuminated the tunnel. An emergency generator clattered away somewhere deeper in the tunnels.

At the junction of a dark side-tunnel, two COMPNOR guards, a sergeant and a corporal were working furiously, hammering huge lengths of timber across the mouth of the side tunnel, gradually sealing it off. Their noses and mouths were masked against the dust by grimy cotton scarves, but their unease was plain to see. As they continued to work, a COMPNOR private emerged from the gloom of the main tunnel, jogging towards them. He slowed to a halt when he joined his two comrades, and began to quickly fill them in. "That's the last of them. Everybody else is out."

The Sergeant glanced around at the Private, but didn't stop working. "Put a face mask on, you kriffing idiot!"

The young Private seemed impatient and cavalier. He ignored the comment and simply wiped the sweat from his neck, gesturing curiously at the side-tunnel. "Look, when do we find out the big secret? What's the panic? What're we supposed to be afraid of?"

The other two exchanged a glance. The Corporal answered first. "Never you mind! Just give us a hand to finish up. Quick!"

The Private joined in reluctantly, and they hoisted another thick plank into place, holding it in position while the Corporal hammered a nail through one end. A slow creak permeated the tunnel, and dust began to spill from the roof. The Corporal carried on regardless, nailing the other end. But the Private was still inquisitive, "Nobody out there's got a clue what's going on. Why're we doing this?"

"Because we've been ordered to! Isn't that enough for you?" The Sergeant barked.

Another plank was lifted into place, and the barricade was nearing completion... then the distant clatter of the generator faltered. The lights dimmed, then brightened again as the generator returned to its previous steady rhythm. The two NCO's froze, holding their breath - looking at each other with speechless expectation. The generator spluttered again - terminally, this time.

They let go of the plank, and it crashed to the floor. Scrabbling for their glowlamps, they started to panic. The Private watched bemused as the other two cursed under their breath. The generator noise was now on a rapid downward curve, slowing and dying. The lights were going with it... and a solid, shocking blackness droped on them with sudden silence. Their torches were on but the beams were feeble, struggling to penetrate the darkness. The Sergeant couldn't help himself, "By the Emperor!" His voice echoed away into the darkness.

The Private shruged, "The generator's just out of fuel. What's so..."

"Shhh!" The Corporal silenced him. A pause ... then, from the side-tunnel, came a new noise: A faint scuffling sound.

They automatically shined their glowlamps at the barricade, their fear tangible now, affecting even the young Private, whose cocky expression of disdain was rapidly dropping from his face. The Sergeant's voice was tight, "It's happening! Just like they said!"

"What is it? Is someone in there?" The Private asked.

But the other two were already backing away along the tunnel in horrified disbelief. The Private began to follow after them, his nervousness growing by the second... the scuffling getting louder..."For the Emperor's sake, what is it? What's in there?"

But the other two turned and ran. And as his composure finally crumbled he ran after them, the Private looked back over his shoulder one last time, his face now betrayed an expression of sheer terror...

B

**Frontlines, Usnia, Senex Sector, Mid-Rim 6ABY**

Densely packed pine trees in all directions. Snowflakes fluttered down silently from a steel-grey sky.

An Imperial Army supply HAVT-B5 slowly crawled along a dirt road which cuts through the forest, engine racing and wheels spinning as it slithered through the river of mud churned up by a hundred tanks and vehicles long gone. Accompanying it were a score of army troops and stormtroopers, breath plumed in the frosty air. Some trudged alongside the juggernaut, offering a shoulder occasionally to straighten it as it fishtailed through the slush. The remainder followed twenty yards behind. Each was sagging under the weight of helmet, equipment and sodden body suits. Their armor marked them as regular Stormtrooper Corps, but their coats carry the black and silver cuff-bands of an 'elite' Legion.

EN-2525, headed up the group of stragglers, as he reached into his ration-bag and pulled out a half-eaten bar of chocolate. He popped a piece into his mouth, and chomped it wearily. Following in his wake were EB-4135, SC-6661, KR-2839, BA-0005, HE-6464, unit medic FR-4077, and the C.O., LT. Krupps.

EN-2525 felt chatty, "They'll be heading on to Bucans without us, at this rate."

EB-4135, moved with a lithe, cat-like alertness despite his tiredness, he threw EN-2525 an idle sideways glance. "What's your hurry?"

SC-6661 snorted and butted in, "Well, it's not to win any medals, that's for sure."

EN-2525 ignored SC-6661's comment, and responded to EB-4135's question. "What's the hurry? Have a guess."

"The women."

"The Emperor's balls, no! They're like Naboo women, coarse hair and wide-pored skin. Next guess."

HE-6464, older than the rest, a veteran, chiped in. "Surely not the booze or the spice?"

EN-2525 shook his head, "Nah! Nexu's piss, all of it. Any more?" EN-2525 looked around, but nobody else was interested except KR-2839, who was looking to him eagerly for the answer. EN-2525 glanced around once more, then sighed in defeat. "Only two good things ever came out of Usnia: one's the trade route to Imperial Center, and the other..." EN-2525 snaps off a chunk of chocolate, and tosses it back to KR-2839 with a wink and a warm smile. KR-2839 quickly tore off the remaining wrapper with nervy fingers.

"Chocolate!" EN-2525 cocked his head appreciatively.

"Got it. You can say what you like, but they make damned good..." A blaster bolt smacked into EN-2525's throat, blowing a chunk out of his neck as it exits. The sound of the distant blaster shot followed a second behind.

Almost simultaneously, a demolition charge exploded under the juggernaut ahead, taking the legs off the accompanying army troops. The front end of the vehicle heaved into the air and crashed back down in a smoking ruin. The group scattered as a hail of sniper bolts rained down. HE-6464 caught a bolt in the leg, as he and EB-4135 headed forward and left off the road; BA-0005 took a gully several meters back, also to the left. The other four stormtrooper stragglers dove right. The rest took cover as best they could.

EN-2525, paralyzed, dropped to his knees in the mud. Hands at his throat attempted to stem the stream of blood. His jaw tried to speak, but only produced gurgles. He was hit again, in the shoulder, but still remained upright.

KR-2839 screamed, "Get him out of there!"

But all attention was focused forward as the rest of the unit swung into action in unison, settling behind cover to return blaster fire with well-practiced precision. With bolts spitting down all around, it's was all they could do to stay put... while their legless, dying comrades screamed in the roadway ahead of them.

HE-6464 and EB-4135 snuggled into cover across the road, HE-6464 drug his injured leg painfully. Shock and confusion showed on their pale faces. EB-4135 asked, "How bad's the leg?"

HE-6464 simply shoke his head, more concerned about EN-2525, who was still propped up on his knees in the kill-zone. "We need to give 2525 some covering fire, see if someone can get to him."

"Angle's wrong from here. Sniper fire's coming from up left somewhere."

"What about retreating to that gully back there ...?" HE-6464 asked. Someone burst through the bushes suddenly behind them, and their blasters were half turned in response before they realized it was BA-0005.

"We've got to move! They're coming up from behind."

EB-4135 looked around, alert. "I don't see any..."

"I tell you they're coming. It's a trap!"

HE-6464 and EB-4135 cast a concerned glance over at their stricken comrade, then EB-4135 made a hasty decision. "Alright. Let's find cover forward."

They jumped to it and moved forward through the trees, blaster rifles pointed in readiness, HE-6464 limped along as best as he could. But they had barely gone ten yards before an E-WEB opened up from somewhere to the front right of them, its bolts chopped into the tree trunks all around them, forcing them back. "Fierfek!"

BA-0005 and EB-4135 ran for cover, but HE-6464 tripped...As bolts kicked into the snow around him, HE-6464 shouted for help involuntarily...

C

Slumped in the kill-zone, EN-2525 was on automatic pilot. Despite his appalling injuries his free hand struggled to open the flap on his holster, to get to his SE-14 blaster pistol. He just managed it when two more bolts chopped into him, smashing into his left arm and abdomen. He slumped back on his haunches with a gurgled moan, but miraculously, still stayed upright.

KR-2839, SC-6661, Lieutenant Krupps, and FR-4077 huddled deeper behind cover as a sustained fusillade of bolts rained down around them. SC-6661 shouted angrily, "Emperor's Ghost!" KR-2839 was making no attempt to return fire, simply staring impotently at EN-2525, who had somehow summoned the strength to shuffle around towards them, vainly trying to inch his way to cover.

FR-4077, meanwhile, his helmet bearing the green, circular decals of a field medic, averted his eyes so as not to look upon the stormtrooper he couldn't help. Lieutenant Krupps was looking around for options. "We're dead if we stay here! 6464! 0005!"

No reply.

"Where are they?" SC-6661 growled.

The sniper fire abated momentarily. But then something small, ovoid and black sailed gracefully out of the trees towards them, splashing heavily into the mud beside EN-2525.

"Thermal Detonator!" The stormtroopers hit the dirt, but KR-2839 was frozen in horror, his eyes locked with those of EN-2525. The detonator exploded with a sharp, shattering blast, taking EN-2525 with it.

And KR-2839 was caught in the shock wave...

Silence.

D

A forest clearing. It was later. Darker. Dusk was falling with the snow. A few brief moments of perfect stillness in the picture-postcard scene, far away from the action. Not even the distant thud of blasterfire could be heard any longer.

Then EB-4135, HE-6464 and BA-0005 stumbled through the trees. EB-4135 scanned the forest ahead with exhausted eyes, his blaster held ready at his side, his free arm supporting the accident-prone HE-6464. HE-6464's leg, by now, was soaked with crusted blood. His face was creased with pain, but still he kept watch left and right, pistol in hand. BA-0005 brought up the rear. He was edgy, scanning the trees behind them with blaster rifle aimed. A few more steps, and EB-4135 paused to catch his breath. He whispered, just loud enough for BA-0005 to hear. "Wait a minute."

BA-0005 crouched and waited, still covering the rear. Untangling himself from HE-6464, EB-4135 crept forward and took up a position beside a tree several meters away, studying the forest ahead through macrobinoculars. After a moment, he lowered the macrobinoculars triumphantly.

"Bunker!"

**Anti-Walker Bunker 'FRIEDA' **

The steel-shutter of a narrow observation loophole slid open suddenly. A glint of eyes in the darkness beyond. Three meters to the left, in a second loophole sunk into the camouflaged duracrete face of the bunker, the twin barrels of a combined anti-walker cannon/E-WEB swiveled into action, taking aim. There was the heavy metallic click-clack of a blaster being cocked. A muffled voice shouted from inside ...

"Stay where you are!" a challenge erupted from the bunker.

"Don't shoot! Comrade!" EB-4135 yelled, down a shallow snow-covered slope, on a frozen dirt road which dog-legged through rows of duracrete tank-traps, the three approaching stormtroopers stopped dead in their tracks. EB-4135 waved his blaster wearily, a dirty white handkerchief tied to the barrel. He called again, cautious, "We're coming in. Alright?"

No reply from the bunker.

EB-4135 set off again anyway, half-dragging HE-6464 up the slope. BA-0005 followed a few paces to the rear, still watching the trees behind them. The barrels of the heavy blasters followed them from the bunker as they approached. The huge bunker was sunk into the tree-covered hillside. The three stormtroopers make their way up the slope and along the side wall, stumbling occasionally in the snow, or on the hidden ropes of the camouflage netting.

At the rear, a deep trench led to the entrance. This was overlooked by another loophole in the wall of the entrance As they struggled down the crude steps into the trench, the steel shutter of this loophole grated open to watch them. EB-4135 arrived first at the heavy durasteel door, and kicked it. "Open up, stang it!"

For a moment the three of them waited in silence and stillness, EB-4135 looked up at the Aurabesh lettering molded into the duracrete above the door. It read 'FRIEDA'. Sound of bolts slammed back, and the door swung open. EB-4135 stood aside to let HE-6464 hobble through first.

HE-6464 was barely inside before he was pushed roughly against the wall, a blaster pistol at his throat. "Hey! What the...?"

And everybody froze.

HE-6464 was staring back into the face of another Imperial soldier - a reserve COMPNOR veteran. This was Mirus, an old man with crazy eyes and a crazy demeanor. An old, livid wound was visible on his forehead, and he looked ill. "Who are you?" He ripped open HE-6464's utility belt, checking his ID-tag. "Let me hear you speak."

"HE-6464. 13th StormGrenadiers Legion."

EB-4135 growled, "Let him go, old man!"

Mirus barked at BA-0005, "You! Say something. Why are you here?"

"We were ambushed. Now take it easy!"

"Ambushed?"

HE-6464 stared him down, "It's a bit late to be asking questions, Private. Put the gun down." Mirus blinked, his eyes slowly lost their crazy gleam. "The blaster!"

Mirus finally backed off. Everybody breathed again. HE-6464 rubbed his throat, cursing silently.

As if his mind had suddenly changed gear, Mirus looked at the other three stormtroopers as if seeing them for the first time. He stroked his old head wound unconsciously. "I'm sorry..." The others looked at him warily, unsettled by his radical change in temperament. "We were warned, you see. About rebel infiltration units."

"If you weren't sure about us you should never have opened the door." EB-4135 slammed and bolted the door behind them. (They're in a short, T-shaped passage: To their right, a small flight of steps led down to another durasteel door; to the left, the Gas Lock which led deeper into the bunker) Mirus shuffled sheepishly for a second, embarrassed at his behavior, then gestured for them to follow. "This way."

Mirus led them through the gas lock. "What happened to you, again?"... then turned right through the gas-proof doors into the main corridor.

"Ambush. Rebels." EB-4135 answered. Doors in each wall of the corridor led to the Generator Room and the Crew Room. Straight ahead is the door to the Anti-Walker Blaster Room. Peering around it curiously was a second COMPNOR volunteer, an Imperial Youth. This was Newman; young, almost a boy. Mirus snapped at him, "Keep watching the front!"

Newman disappeared out of sight as Mirus led the others right again, into the Crew Room. Bunks. Lockers. Pin-ups. Military mottoes painted on the walls. Small stove. Emergency Escape. The three newcomers slumped down onto the bunks near the stove. A bit of warmth and comfort. The relief spread across their faces, but this only accentuated their pain and exhaustion.

HE-6464 stretched out his injured leg. "Ahhh! Fierfek!"

Meanwhile, Mirus hovered nervously, occasionally coughing. "How far away did all this happen? The ambush?"

"Three, four kilometers."

"But the front-line is supposed to be thirty-odd kilometers away."

HE-6464 snorted, "That's what we thought." One by one, they light up cigarros. "Emperor knows what the Rebels were doing there. Probably don't even know themselves."

BA-0005 was studying Mirus's reaction. "They might be coming this way." Mirus turned pale. He looked at the other two for confirmation. "Will they?"

EB-4135 shrugged again, "Maybe. They were behind us for a while, back there. All they have to do is follow our tracks in the snow."

BA-0005 studied Mirus. "How many troopers do you have?"

Mirus nervously stroked the wound on his forehead. "Just one." The three newcomers stiffened, alert. The relaxation drained from their faces, to be replaced once more by tension.

HE-6464 jerked a thumb back down the corridor. "You mean that youngling?"

"Everybody else was sent forward. They even took our supplies."

EB-4135 smacked a fist into his knee, "Sith-spit."

"Is it like this all along the line, now? Just Reserves?" HE-6464 asked.

"I don't know. I think so. There's not supposed to be any fighting here!" Mirus responded.

"Someone forgot to tell the Rebels." HE-6464 growled.

EB-4135 faced the old man, "You'd better get on the comm to Area Command." Mirus turned to leave, fretting. EB-4135 called after him. "What was it you said before, about infiltration units?"

"Rebels in stormtrooper armor. Sometimes they..."

"We know what they are. What about them?"

"We were just told to be on the lookout for them."

"Well, don't shoot at anyone until you know who it is. There may be others coming, from our unit." Mirus nodded and left. EB-4135 snorted derisively. "I don't believe it! KYounglings and sick, crazy old men left in charge."

HE-6464 nodded, "That's what it's come to, alright. Been falling apart since Endor." A moment of brooding silence. HE-6464 got out his first aid kit and saw to his leg. EB-4135 got up and smelled the caf pot on the stove. Ersatz! He pulled a sour face, but poured a mug-full anyway and passed it around.

BA-0005 continued where they'd left off. "So, if the Rebels attack again, it'll be up to us."

EB-4135 looked at him, "They won't necessarily come after us. They might have other priorities." But he doesn't sound as if he quite believes it. And it's clear from their faces that neither do HE-6464 0r BA-0005. EB-4135 stared for a moment into his caf mug, then raises it in a tired, ironic toast, "Well. Happy Empire Day!"

Suddenly Mirus was shouting from the Gun Room, "Someone's coming!"

A small group of stormtroopers flited cautiously between the trees at the bottom of the slope overlooked by the bunker. Three, maybe four of them. E4135 watched them. "Ours, alright. What's left of them."

BA-0005 held out his hand for the macrobinoculars, "Can I see?"

EB-4135 was peering out through the loophole. He passed the macrobinoculars to BA-0005, then turned to Newman at the heavy blaster. "What's your name?"

"Newman, sir." EB-4135 looked around, (The room is dim, lights out because the loophole cover is open) 4.7 cm blaster cannon/E-WEB; ammo boxes; door to the Ammunition Room; not much else. Behind him, Mirus was on the wall-mounted hyperwave radio, ad-libbing terse, monosyllabic comments and replies. HE-6464 was leaning expectantly in the doorway. EB-4135 turned back to Newman and indicates the huge blaster, "Are you alright with this?"

Newman nodded with a hint of defiance, "I used to be on a anti-airspeeder Flak unit on Araxes."

EB-4135 was quiet for a moment, looking sadly at this overconfident youngling who should be back at home with his family. He gestured at Mirus and continues, "Did he explain to you what's going on? What's his name?"

"Mirus. Yes, sir."

"Alright. Keep the blaster trained on the trees. Just in case." Newman nodded.

"This isn't like shooting at airspeeders. If you have to fire, use short bursts."

Another dismissive, slightly annoyed nod, and Newman put his eye back to the blaster sight. Mirus hung up the radio. He was even more agitated, now. "They just said to let them know of any developments. That's all!"

EB-4135 grinned ironically, "Great!"

They heard the sound of indistinct shouting from outside. BA-0005 spotted them, "They're out of the trees. Coming in."

The four stormtroopers were now dodging between the duracrete hovertank traps, waving towards the bunker. One of them was being helped along by the others. BA-0005 watched their approach, "Krupps; 6661, and 4077. Can't see who they're dragging. Is it 2839?"

"Call out to them." EB-4135 ordered.

BA-0005 opened his mouth to shout through the loophole...blaster fire burst from the distant trees. BA-0005 and EB-4135 instinctively ducked, grabbing their blasters.

"E chu ta!"

Mirus scrambled back to the gun and pushed Newman out of the way to take over. BA-0005 worked the bolt on his E-11, aimed through the loophole and fired towards the trees.

The four newcomers were yelling incoherently as they scrambled up the icy slope, under fire from an unseen enemy. Bolts were coming from the trees kicking into the snow around them. singing off the duracrete tank traps. They were in the open, sitting mynocks! FR-4077 was dragging the injured KR-2839. Krupps was pushing them along with one hand and firing blindly towards the trees with the other. SC-6661 brought up the rear, laying down a covering fire as he backed up the slope.

SC-6661 was hit. He shouted involuntarily and stumbled; but a second later he was up again, still firing. A bolt deflects against the side of FR-4077's helmet. He shouted a string of incoherent curses. All this happens in the space of six seconds.

BA-0005 squeezed off another bolt. EB-4135 shouted at Mirus; "What the hell are you waiting for?"

"I can't see the enemy!"

"Just fire!"

The E-WEB exploded into action. The noise within the confined duracrete space was incredible. BA-0005 fired again, finishing his clip. He pulled away from the loophole. EB-4135 took his place instantly, firing. Newman broke open a new ammo belt for the E-WEB. HE-6464 finished loading tibanna into a blaster magazine and tosses it to BA-0005. "They're coming around the side!"

BA-0005 slammed the clip into his blaster rifle. "I'm alright here. Go!"

EB-4135 pulled away from the loophole and BA-0005 smoothly took his place, firing immediately. HE-6464 caught on straight away and followed EB-4135 out of the room. EB-4135 raced for the rear. HE-6464 hobbled behind him. "I'll get the door."

They piled into the Gas Lock. EB-4135 branched off right. HE-6464 went left, around the dog-leg to the main door..

EB-4135 was at the loophole in an instant. Checked outside. Shouted through to HE-6464 "Clear!"

HE-6464 pulled open the door just in time for the new arrivals to spill inside, almost falling over each other. He slammed the door shut behind them. They collapsed against the wall and sank to the floor. For a few moments they said nothing, catching their breath and gradually realizing they're still alive. FR-4077 leaned back with his eyes closed, pale and trembling, and hugging his plastoid helmet to his chest. Lieutenant Krupps wiped his face with a handkerchief, and looked uneasily around the cramped space, pulling open his collar.

HE-6464 took a look at KR-2839, who was semi-conscious and obviously in the worst condition. "What happened to the others?"

SC-6661 struggled back to his feet painfully. "Take a wild guess!"

Krupps stared at HE-6464, "Who else is here?"

"4135 and 0005."

SC-6661 started to chuckle ironically, but it emerged as a breathless cough. He looked at his wounded side, then suddenly kicked the wall in a violent, cathartic release of tension.

The E-WEB was still booming. The air was thick with ozone. BA-0005 was trying to shout over the noise. The blaster stopped momentarily. "... enough! Hold fire!" Another short burst, and the blaster stopped again. Empty tibanna shells rattled down the collection tube. Sudden, complete silence.

Mirus was glued, rigid, to the blaster sight of the E-WEB. BA-0005 cautiously peeked through the loophole. "That might hold them for a while."

Krupps entered and took in the scene. He threw a glance at BA-0005, then addressed Mirus. "Are you in charge here?"

Mirus and Newman straightened to attention. "Yes, sir."

Krupps headed immediately for the loophole, and BA-0005 stepped aside to give him access. He turned for the door, but Krupps called him back, "BA-0005!"

BA-0005 stopped where he was and waited patiently, whilst Krupps studied the scene outside. He turned to Mirus, "You've been on to Area Command?"

"Yes sir."

"That covering fire was bloody late. Who was on the E-WEB?"

Mirus hesitated momentarily, coughing. "I was, sir."

Krupps turned away from the loophole and looked Mirus up and down, taking in his COMPNOR uniform, and noticing for the first time how sick he appeared. "Fierfek! You look worse than us."

Mirus said nothing, waiting for his telling-off. Newman, too was expectant, but Krupps left it hanging in the air. "What other covering fire is there, apart from this?"

"There's an E-WEB nest across the pass, Sir. But nobody to man it."

Krupps nodded to himself. "Alright. I'll talk to Area Command again. In the meantime, if anything moves out there, shoot. Instantly!"

Mirus snapped his heels, relieved. "Yes, sir!" He turned back to the blaster sight, whilst Newman's face betrayed a momentary disappointment and irritation that Mirus was off the hook. Meanwhile, Krupps half-turned to BA-0005. "How long ago did you get here?"

"Just a few minutes before you did." A pregnant pause. "We looked for you."

Krupps turned away again without reply. He looked around the smoky room and suddenly seems short of breath. Face close to the loophole for air, he tugged at his collar catastrophically, and barked an order. "Someone turn on the vents."

E

KR-2839 was helped onto one of the bunks by FR-4077 and SC-6661, HE-6464 followed behind with his kit. Having let go of KR-4077, SC-6661 slumped onto the next bunk, looking down again at his bleeding side. He was still steamed. "Scum! Behind us all the kriffing way. Don't they know when to quit?"

FR-4077 knelt by his side, "Let me see it." FR-4077 tried to look at his wound, but SC-6661 shruged him off angrily, gesturing at KR-2839, "Just get on with pampering him!"

HE-6464 was still settling KR-2839. "He's hurt, 6661. And he lost his friend back there."

SC-6661 wasn't impressed, but dropped the subject. FR-4077 took over the tending of KR-2839, and HE-6464 hobbled over to a bunk at the other side of the room. SC-6661 eased himself back against the wall, taking deep breaths to calm himself and control the pain, a Medal of Valor 2nd class glinted visibly on his body glove. Then he rested momentarily, eying HE-6464. "How many do you think, out there?"

"Who knows? Enough, anyway."

"I reckon two or three snipers and an E-WEB each side of the road. Plus maybe a couple on demolition."

HE-6464 shook his head, "More than that."

"If we hadn't split up, we could've fought it out."

"And got ourselves killed."

"It was ten or twelve rebels at most."

"Yes, and the Emperor knows how many more coming up from behind."

SC-6661 was honestly surprised, "What do you mean? You saw others?"

"I didn't see them, no, but.."

"Then who says?"

HE-6464 shook his head dismissively, annoyed that he'd allowed himself to be drawn into an argument. "Don't start, 6661."

SC-6661 glanced over at FR-4077 momentarily, intrigued, then leaned forward eagerly. "We pulled back without bumping into anyone else. How do you think we got out of there! So. Who reconnoitered all these other rebels?"

HE-6464 remained silent, and SC-6661 suddenly became aware that BA-0005 was standing in the doorway, listening. BA-0005 and SC-6661 glared at each other for a moment, then SC-6661 sniggered, shaking his head contemptuously. BA-0005 stood his ground defiantly. "The Loot wants you up front."

SC-6661 took a small container from his pouch, shook a pill into his hand, and tossed it into his mouth. Then he got to his feet and strolled to the door, pausing just long enough to glare once more into BA-0005's eyes, pointedly and childishly polishing his Medal of Valor with his body glove's cuff, as if to emphasis that BA-0005 didn't have one. And with that, SC-6661 exited.

HE-6464 spoke first "Little bastard!"

BA-0005 changed the subject. "We're going to siege conditions. Krupps wants you to organize a rotation, three-hour shifts." HE-6464 nodded, got up, and departed without further comment. The shocked and injured KR-2839 meanwhile, who had remained semi-conscious throughout, was slowly coming to his senses. Still groggy, he struggled to focus on FR-4077 and BA-0005. "Did ... 2525 make it?"

FR-4077 gently, "No."

He was momentarily confused, then anguish creased his face, as if the memories of what had happened suddenly flooded back. FR-4077 continued, 'It's alright. We're safe, now."

BA-0005 watched as tears drip silently from KR-2839's eyes. Uncomfortable, he, too, departed. Left alone with KR-2839, FR-4077 struggled to find words of comfort. "I... couldn't have got to him, 2839. I'm sorry."

"Nobody tried to help him. Not even me."

FR-4077 didn't know what else to say. Instead, he slumped back and blew out a weary sigh. KR composed himself slightly after a few moments. "Where is this place?"

"Just an anti-walker bunker."

KR-2839 shivered momentarily, suddenly chilled. He glanced around the room, as if sensing something..."It's not safe here."

But FR-4077 was no longer listening; he was studying the fresh bolt-burn on the side of his plastoid helmet introspectively, as if dwelling on the close-shave. So KR-2839 turned his attention again to his surroundings, his gaze finally settled on the square durasteel hatch leading to the bunker's Emergency Escape shaft...

F

Darkness, except for the faint diffused moonlight filtering in through the loophole at which SC-6661 was keeping watch. Mirus and Newman were manning the blaster cannon, while BA-0005, EB-4135 and HE-6464 waited expectantly just inside the doorway. Lieutenant Krupps, meanwhile, was on the hyperwave radio, "... but the situation's approaching critical. - No, we don't know that for sure. - Yes. - Yes, alright." He put down the receiver, exasperated, and turned to the group. "All units are up at the front. No reinforcements available. We're to hold until relieved."

EB-4135 shook with anger, "Hold with what?"

"I doubt they'll attack the bunker. They don't know we're low on ammo, and this time they don't have the element of surprise." Krupps explained.

"They don't need it if there's an armored column heading straight for us." EB-4135 snapped.

Krupps glared at him, flustered and annoyed. There were clearly still tensions between the two surviving halves of the group. "And where's this armored column coming from?"

"The same place they did! We don't know what's going on at the front line."

Krupps retorted, "Command thinks it's either an infiltration unit or an isolated pocket of resistance."

SC-6661 piped in, "And what do you think about that, 0005?"

BA-0005 ignored the mocking tone of SC-6661's voice. "I think there's a lot more out there than we realize."

"Well, that's your story, anyway."

HE-6464 stood up for his friend, "Leave it, 6661. You don't know what you're talking about..."

BA-0005 growled, "Don't make excuses for me. Not to him!"

There was a second of icy tension, then EB-4135 picked up where the conversation left off. "Either way, they must've spotted we've got no covering fire across the pass. And now that it's dark there's nothing to stop them surrounding the bunker."

SC-6661 shrugged, "So what? They won't get in, unless one of you plans on opening the door for them.

HE-6464 faced Krupps, "4135's right. And despite having a Sith Lord here on our side..." (a gesture at SC-6661) "... without ammo, we can't stop them."

Krupps responded, "And I say they won't attack."

"Why? Because it's Empire Day?" EB-4135 snorted.

Krupps opened his mouth to argue, but HE-6464 interrupted: "Loot, you saw the way they came after us. They're not just doing their job, they're trying to be heroes." He held out his wrist, indicating the black, silver lettered legion insignia which they all wore. "And if they do get in, they won't be taking any prisoners."

There was a moment of reflective silence which temporarily humbled the group. Finally, EB-4135 again raised his original point. "So. With the bunker surrounded, what options do we have when the ammo runs out?"

Newman glanced at Mirus, expecting him to say something, but the old man was keeping quiet. He then looked at SC-6661, and summoned up the courage to speak for himself: "There's always the tunnels."

Everybody looked at him.


	2. Chapter 2

**Escape Tunnel Hatch**

EB-4135 dragged open the bolts of the durasteel door. SC-6661, HE-6464, Lieutenant Krupps, Newman and Mirus were crowded behind him, on the short flight of steps running down from the entrance passage. EB-4135 shoved the door open eagerly and shined his glowlamp into the narrow Access Tunnel beyond: about ten meters long; concrete walls; another durasteel door at the other end.

Newman spoke first, "There. Through that other door."

"And what's in there?" EB-4135 asked.

Newman shrugged and glanced at Mirus, who answers reluctantly. "Only womp rats."

"Fierfek, don't tell KR-2839." HE-6464 swore.

EB-4135 asked again, "I meant, what are they for?"

"Munitions storage, I think. But they were never finished."

"Why?"

Mirus shrugged, "I don't know. Too many cave-ins, maybe. They're not safe."

"But you've been in?"

Mirus was curiously uncomfortable. "Not very far."

Newman answered for him, "They must go right under the woods. There's a main entrance at the other side of the hill. I've seen it from the outside."

"Were they ever used? Could there still be ammunition stored in there?" SC-6661 asked

"I haven't been in that far. I told you, it's not safe." Mirus answered.

"Why don't we take a look?" EB-4135 started in, his curiosity clearly aroused, but Krupps called him back impatiently. "No."

"But if there's the possibility of.." SC-6661 complained.

"We were told to stay put. Unless something happens, we'll do as we're ordered." Krupps explained, to Mirus and SC-6661, "And you're both still on watch, in case you'd forgotten." Krupps gestured Mirus and SC-6661 back towards the Gun Room and followed after them, calling out to EB-4135 as he goes, "And make sure that door's closed!"

EB-4135 waited until Krupps was gone, then whispers to HE-6464, "I could just have a quick look."

"You heard the Loot."

"Yeah, I heard him. He's getting jumpy."

"Well, it's not every day two-thirds of the unit gets wiped out in one go.", a pause "And look at the group he's been left with."

EB-4135 ignored the comment with a shrug, pulling closed the Access Tunnel door.

B

That night BA-0005 was on watch, alone. He was cold, bored, and exhausted. He glanced out through the loophole momentarily. The bunker entrance was visible in the diffuse moonlight. All is quiet. As EB-4135 had done earlier, he focused for a moment on the name molded above the durasteel door. Moving aside from the loophole, he fished in his tunic for a cigarra. He then took out his personal datapad. Inside is a static-filled holoimage, which he held in the darkness of the bunker: It showed a young woman, cradling a voorpak in her arms. He studied the photo, thinking, and the tough face of the stormtrooper softened for a second. FR-4077 entered and caught sight of the image before BA-0005 snapped the datapad shut. "The watch has changed. Go get something to eat."

BA-0005 took another pull on his cigarra. He was about to stub it out and leave, but FR-4077 appeared as if he wanted to talk, so BA-0005 offers the butt to him. FR-4077 accepted it awkwardly. "Thanks. So, what about the old man, eh? By the Emperor! He's sick, he shouldn't be here in his state."

"None of us should be here."

FR-4077 got to the point. "Listen... 6661 was out of line, earlier. Always trying to prove something."

BA-0005 said nothing.

"You heard what slipped out the other week? About how he applied to join the ISB, and they wouldn't have him!" BA-0005 nodded, a thin smile on his lips.

"I heard."

"He's keyed-up on glimmerstim spice half the time. Getting too fond of it. He'll get us all killed, one day." FR-4077 took a long, deep, nervous pull on the cigarra. "I tell you, I was as scared as a Gungan back there! We've ridden our luck too long, and it's due to run out." he paused, "Half a chance and I would've done the same as you."

"What do you mean?"

"Got out of there while I could. Every trooper for himself!" He took another pull and offered the cigarra back to BA-0005. But BA-0005 just looked at him curiously, face blank, and turns away. FR-4077 frowned, confused, knowing he said the wrong thing.

C

Lieutenant Krupps, SC-6661 and Mirus were sitting around the stove, heating soup. As they did so they ad-libed war anecdotes, the warmth and coziness, and in Mirus's case, a bottle of spirits, having eased the tension slightly. Newman sat nearby, listening with a youngling's fascination. KR-2839 was huddled on a corner bunk, asleep. Mirus laughed "... but he wouldn't listen! So, of course, when he pushed the firing stud, it blew right back in his face. Took his eye out, and half his cheek with it!" grim chuckling, "Served him right, I say."

"Palp's Eyes!" SC-6661 chuckled.

EB-4135, meanwhile, slung on his E-11 blaster rifle and took a last gulp of his soup before heading for the door to go on watch. SC-6661 spied this and called after him. "Come on, 4135. Tell us a quick war story before you go."

"You're the hero, 6661. Not me." He departed, crossing with BA-0005 in the doorway. SC-6661 watched as BA-0005 silently found an empty bunk.

SC-6661 observed, to no one in particular, "And not much point asking him, is there."

BA-0005 ignored him. He took his mug from his kit-bag, filled it with soup, and settled back on his bunk to drink it. Mirus, meanwhile, was offering around the booze once more. Coughing, he poured a shot for himself and Krupps, and held the bottle out for SC-6661. "Go on, have one. Look upon it as medicine."

"I told you, I don't drink." SC-6661 changed the subject, "So what's your story, anyway? How'd you get the head wound?"

"Got that on the front line, On Ryloth. AT-TE blew up next to me. Twenty, or so years ago. Some memory loss, but it don't bother me too much."

SC-6661 pulled a covert, knowing face at Krupps. Suppressing a smile, Krupps turned to Newman, who has been listening quietly behind them, enthralled. "You don't say much, do you. Come on, it's your turn." Newman shuffled, uncomfortable, and unsure what to say. "Alright, never mind the war stories. How about something funny that happened to you at school?"

Krupps laughed. SC-6661 and Mirus join in. Newman blushed furiously, embarrassed.

"Ah, leave him. He's alright." SC-6661 laughed, "Don't worry, kid." SC-6661 tapped his Medal of Valor. "There's plenty of time to win one of these. This war's not over yet, believe me!"

Newman looked at SC-6661, grateful for the comment. BA-0005, watched the brief exchange, noticed the look of reverence in Newman's face. However, the atmosphere of anecdotal jollity had stalled, and Krupps's attention had been shifted back to the present by SC-6661's comment. He was thoughtful for a moment. "So what else do you know about those tunnels, old man? Could we get out that way in an emergency, or not?"

Mirus was evasive. "Maybe... I'm not really sure."

"You know more than you're letting on, don't you. What're you hiding?"

Mirus shrugged dismissively. "Nothing." But Krupps was still waiting, so Mirus finally continued, "All I know is, there's a whole maze of tunnels and storage chambers. Maybe there's a way through, maybe not."

SC-6661 chirped in, "So what happened? Why did they abandon the site?"

"I think there was some kind of revolt by the slave-workers. COMPNOR closed the site temporarily and never came back. Probably the local folk-tales didn't help matters."

"What do you mean?" Krupps asked.

"Beings around here have unpleasant stories about these woods. Ask the youngling. He'll tell you."

"You're not talking about ghost stories?" Krupps glanced around the room, incredulous. Mirus said nothing. "You're trying to tell me they stopped construction on a military installation because of a few ghost stories?"

Krupps and SC-6661 sniggered, but Mirus was serious, his mind seemingly elsewhere. "You can laugh here. But in there, in the dark, it's easy to believe all sorts of things."

Krupps and SC-6661's derisory laughter woke KR-2839, who emerged from his sleep disorientated. He groggily turned over on his bunk and sat upright. SC-6661 turned his attention back to Mirus, sneering. "So just what are these folk-tales?"

Mirus thought for a second, then decided. "Alright. I'll tell you." He shuffled, settling for his story, he took their skeptical reaction as a challenge, and got that crazy gleam in his eyes once again. He began, "You have to remember, these woods are ancient. Older than the Old Republic and beings have talked about them for millennium. They used to burn Jedi or maybe Sith here, because the place was supposed to be evil. But it was during the Fatal Darkness Plague that the tales really started."

Everybody was listening intently. KR-2839 looked around, puzzled and wondering what he had missed. Mirus continued, "The disease was sweeping across the Mid-Rim. The village near here was isolated, and they thought they could escape the infection. But there was no escape. The Plague finally took hold and started to spread through the village like wild-fire, and once infected, friends suddenly became enemies."

Mirus paused theatrically, enjoying the reactions of the others as they were drawn in to the story. KR-2839 was particularly unsettled. "Then, at the height of the Plague, a stranger arrived in the village. Some say he was a Jedi Master. If he was, then he was a master of the Dark Side of the Force. Before long, he began to turn the villagers against each other. It didn't take much. He offered to rid the village of the Plague once and for all. And beings believed him."

KR-2839 was now white as a ghost. "One dreadful night, he roused the villagers into a frenzy. He led most of the sick and infected people out of the village, burning their houses one by one. They were pursued into these woods, hunted down like dogs, and when they were finally surrounded, they were slaughtered mercilessly. Then their poisoned bodies were buried in the ground."

KR-2839 had listened to enough. Pale and trembling, he shakily got to his feet and left the room. The spell was broken. Everybody shuffled uncomfortably. Mirus looked around. His crazy expression had gone again. "What's the matter?"

SC-6661 glared after KR-2839. "Don't worry about it, old man, he's got no stomach, that's all. Been like that for a while."

BA-0005 looked at SC-6661 silently, and SC-6661 returned his gaze with defiant contempt.

D

KR-2839 was leaning over the drain beneath the water tap in the corner. Head down, breathing deeply, as if about to be sick. The door of the Anti-Walker Blaster Room was ajar, and EB-4135 peered around it to see what's going on. "You alright?"

KR-2839 was still groggy and disorientated. He turned on the tap and took a few sips of water from his hand. Then he took a few unsteady steps along the corridor, clearly uncomfortable with the surroundings. "What's happening? Are they still out there?"

"All the way around, probably." EB-4135 guessed.

And this unsettled KR-2839 even more. "You mean ... we're surrounded?"

EB-4135 realized his mistake. "Chances are, they won't try anything."

"But they could get in. If they really wanted to. We all know that."

"There's probably not enough of them to try."

KR-2839 ignored him, nervously fingering his body glove's sleeve insignia. "And you know what they do to elite legion stormtroopers. As far as they're concerned, we're no better than ISB."

"Take it easy."

KR-2839, however, wouldn't be consoled. "There's something about this place. Something not right. Almost as if we were meant to..." He trailed off cryptically, then looks at EB-4135 again. "You haven't figured it out yet, have you."

"What?"

"With EN-2525 and the others dead it's just us again. Just the seven of us."

EB-4135 did seem to know what he was talking about, but he changed the subject awkwardly. "Better get some more rest while you can. You're probably still concussed."

But KR-2839 was now staring with moist, emotional eyes at the motto carefully hand painted over the Heavy Blaster Cannon Room door. It reads, 'Palpatine is With Us'. "The Emperor is with us". Then, to EB-4135, "But he's not anymore, is he. Dead at Endor. We're on our own."

And EB-4135 didn't have an answer. KR-2839 turned away silently and headed back towards the Crew Room. KR-2839 re-entered the room as discretely as he could. The others were in the process of settling down to get some sleep. BA-0005 was already huddled on his bunk facing the wall. SC-6661, meanwhile, propped himself up on his pillow, flicking through an army holozine. KR-2839 waited for a moment by the door, just watching the others pensively, as if seeing them for what they were for the very first time...

E

Outside a wind was beginning to gust through the trees, driving the falling snow before it.

EB-4135 was crouched with his back to the blaster cannon, idly blowing cigarra smoke into his hands and rubbing them together to keep warm. HE-6464 was leaning close to the loophole, his eyelids heavy. He breathed in sharply and rubbed his face under his bucket, trying to stay awake. Hearing something, he cocked his head to one side, listening. HE-6464 whispered, "Come here."

EB-4135 reluctantly got to his feet. "What is it?"

"Listen."

They leaned closer to the loophole. From the trees, carried on the wind, the faint tune of a distant Alderaanian flute, the beautiful hymn 'The Ballad of Nomi Sunrider'. They listened, HE-6464 peered outside. "I love the snow."

For a fleeting moment, he was moved, then he swallowed, pushing back emotions which were welling up from the Emperor knew where. EB-4135 looked at his chrono, struggling to see it in the shaft of dull, diffused moonlight. "Midnight. It's Empire Day".

F

All was still and quiet. All were asleep. Even the hyperactive SC-6661, slouched casually on his bunk with his holozine, and was nodding-off involuntarily. KR-2839's sleep, however, was troubled. He shuffled in his bunk, unsettled, as if he was having a nightmare. . .

_… A distorted and surreal sequence, typical of a dream: Flaming torches, dozens of them, are dancing like fire-flies between the dark, distant trees, accompanied by aggressive but incoherent shouts. Suddenly, a group of figures burst into the foreground, also carrying wooden torches and clearly in pursuit of something. Their dress and appearance is strange, like people from the Old Republic's early days. They carry spears, clubs, and bows. They yell excitedly, shouting encouragement to unseen comrades, as if they've just spotted something, and speed up their pursuit. They split up quickly and rush to surround something, bearing down upon it with weapons raised, then halting in satisfied anticipation when they have it cornered..._

_...Silhouetted in the flickering fire-light, huddled in a frightened, defensive group, their quarry is revealed: A small group of beings, wearing the incongruous but distinctive armor of stormtroopers..._

KR-2839 awoke with a start. Sweating profusely, it took a second or two to remember where he was. Then, calming down slightly, he looked around to see if anyone noticed his abrupt awakening. All was just as it was before, except that Mirus' bunk was now empty.

G

Mirus was up to something.

He crept down the short flight of steps to the Access Tunnel door, torch in hand, and gently worked open the durasteel bolts. Easing the door open, he paused momentarily to ensure he hadn't been heard, then quietly headed into the tunnel beyond, half-closing the door behind him. But he was being observed through the crack in the Gas lock door, which was not properly closed...

Mirus had moved out of sight, KR-2839 silently opened the Gas Lock door. He too, listened for a moment to ensure FR-4077 hadn't heard anything through the heavy durasteel door of the Entrance Defense room. Then, satisfied, he followed after Mirus furtively.

KR-2839 crept along the short dark length of the tunnel, chasing the faint, wavering glow from Mirus's glowlamp which was visible through the second durasteel door, ajar at the end of the passage. He stopped a yard from the door, torch in hand but not switched on. He seemed to have a fleeting moment of indecision... Then an indistinct whisper drew his attention back towards Mirus. KR-2839 eased closer to the door, and peered around.

Mirus was standing about ten meters away, his back to KR-2839. He was silhouetted against the dim glow from his own glowlamp, which was just sufficient to hint at the surroundings: a tall, wide, duracrete-lined tunnel which intersected the Access Tunnel at right angles. Now Mirus whispered again, louder, as if calling to someone, "Mart! I'm here. Come talk to me!" He listened for a moment, then continued forward into the darkness.

Despite his nervousness and confusion, KR-2839 seemed to come to a sudden mental decision: Using a unpowered vibroblade, he quickly began digging and cutting at the stitching of the black cuff-bands on his body glove. Finally ripping them loose, he tossed them aside. Then, picking at the torn threads which remain in his sleeves, he slipped through the door and silently went after Mirus …

H

Back in the Crew Room EB-4135 shook BA-0005 awake as gently and quietly as he could. BA-0005 turned over in his bunk and looked at EB-4135 groggily, and EB-4135 quickly held a finger to his mouth, whispering, "Shh! Don't wake Krupps.

But it was too late. "What's the matter, EB-4135?" Krupps sat up in his bunk, blinking himself awake. EB-4135 glanced sheepishly at BA-0005 before answering. "I'm not sure. I can't find Mirus. Or 2839."

Krupps glanced at his chrono. "Who's on watch?"

"Me, 6464 and 4077. But it's time for the shift-change."

"What do you mean you can't find them?"

Again, EB-4135 was reluctant to drop his comrade in it, "It looks like they're in the tunnels."

Krupps stood up, a look of confused incredulity on his face. He moved around the bunks, shaking the others awake, his sleep-befuddled mind was still trying to think it through. "Up. Get up!" SC-6661 and Newman rolled out of their bunks. "Relieve 6464 in the Cannon Room."

SC-6661 rubbed his face. He didn't look as if he slept above half an hour, and he automatically reached for the container of glimmerstim pills in his pouch. "What's going on?"

"Do it now!" Krupps barked.

Newman jumped to it. SC-6661 got up and followed, glancing sideways at Krupps as he departed. After a moment Krupps turned back to EB-4135, picking up the thread of the conversation, "They're deserting."

"We don't know that."

"What else do you think they're doing in there? Exploring? They're looking for a way out."

BA-0005 stepped in, "If they'd wanted to get out they could've gone through the door."

"If I remember, you were the one who suggested the bunker might be surrounded. The tunnels seem a pretty obvious way out to me." the officer turned to EB-4135, "Whatever the reasons, I want them back."

"I'll go." EB-4135 volunteered.

"Alright. Take HE-6464." Krupps ordered.

"6464's injured. I'll go." BA-0005 stood up, strapping on his pistol belt. "Unless, of course, you don't trust me to come back." Krupps returned BA-0005's defiant gaze.

"Just don't be too long."

BA-0005 and EB-4135 stepped from the Access Tunnel, into the wider tunnel where KR-2839 went after Mirus, and they shined their glowlamps in different directions, checking the place out. The place was creepy. Bare duracrete walls; curved roof with lighting fixtures; flat duracrete floor with narrow-gauge rail track running off into the pitch-blackness in either direction; side-tunnels branching off at intervals. EB-4135 spoke first, "Fierfek, the air's foul! Nice bit of work, though. Looks safe enough to me."

"Probably not all like this." Their voices echoed away in an eerily disembodied fashion.

"I'll go this way." EB-4135 suggested.

"We're not sticking together?"

"Why? You scared of the dark now?" Under his helmet he wore a teasing half-smile, which BA-0005 returned.

"Alright. We'll cover more ground, at least."

"I doubt we'll find them. I found these in the Access Tunnel, before I woke you." EB-4135 kept his voice low, just in case. Pulled out the pair of black cuff-bands crudely torn from KR-2839's uniform. "2839 must've dropped them. If the Loot knew about this he'd send 6661 after him, or inform the ISB Field Police. Or both!"

EB-4135 looked BA-0005 in the face, awaiting his response to that last statement. He's put his trust in him. "He won't hear about it from me."

"Well, if they did find a way out they'll be long gone. So why don't we take the opportunity to look around, just in case we ever need a way out." EB-4135 suggested.

"Fine with me." They split up.

BA-0005 yelled back down the tunnel at EB-4135, "I'll follow this cable duct. See if I can find a generator."

"See you back here." EB-4135 waved a laconic hand in reply as he departed.

I

BA-0005, meanwhile, headed in the opposite direction, his glowlamp-beam following the power-cables running along the top of the wall. He had only gone a few paces when his glowlamp-beam began to weaken and flicker. He gave the glowlamp a shake, and the beam brightened again. He looked around to call to his comrade, "4135...?"

But there was suddenly no sign of him, and BA-0005's voice merely echoed away into the solid darkness. He was alone.

J

Back in the bunker, Krupps was interrogating Newman. The youngling was nervous, and kept looking to SC-6661 for support. But SC-6661 was keeping watch at the loophole, leaving things to Krupps for the moment.

Newman whined, "... I tell you, I don't know!"

"Why is it nobody knows anything around here?" the officer sighed, "The old man's always wandering off into the tunnels, but you don't know why!"

"He's never gone for very long. An hour or so, just to be by himself. He sometimes gets ...confused."

Krupps snorted in mock surprise, "Surely not!"

"But it's not just his head wound. Or the fact that he's getting sick. He lost his son last year." SC-6661 glanced at Newman for a second, then turned his attention back outside. He spoke quietly, "We've all lost someone."

Krupps continued, "Either way, we can assume he's showing KR-2839 a way out."

Newman shook his head, "I'd ... doubt that, Sir."

"Why?"

"I'm not sure Mirus would let anyone go with him. He's always told me to stay away from the tunnels. He treats them as if they belong to him."

SC-6661 interrupted, "Is that why he was trying to frighten us with ghost stories? To try to keep us out?"

"Maybe." He looked to SC-6661 again, now, anxious to please. "He sometimes acts as if... as if there's something in there he doesn't want anyone to know about."

Krupps and SC-6661 exchanged a glance.

K

Back inside the tunnel BA-0005 shoved open the heavy durasteel door and stepped inside, shining his glowlamp around. He was in a longish room, with duracrete partitions separating the heavy utility equipment; solid fuel generator; oil burner; air-filtration system; all dusty, and slightly cobwebbed. He checked the fuel-gauge on the generator, pulled a face, and advanced further into the room. He shook a couple of jerry-cans, but they were empty. A table near the main power junction-box had been left with an assortment of clutter piled high. BA-0005 unrolled a large diagram and studied it. Some kind of plan...A noise from somewhere, unidentifiable. BA-0005 tenses..."4135?"

He headed back towards the door, folding the diagram. BA-0005 inched through the Generator Room door, securing the diagram inside his leg pouch, and shining his glowlamp in either direction along the narrow side-tunnel.

Nothing.

He stepped out and began to head along the tunnel...His glowlamp beam flickered again. He paused and banged it against the wall. The beam steadied momentarily... then went out! "Fierfek!" louder, "4135! Are you there?"

L

EB-4135 paused, as if he heard something behind him, then shook his head and continued forward.

He studied the walls and roof curiously as he moved from a duracrete-lined tunnel-section into an unfinished section. He squeezed past a huge metal rubbish wagon, piled with rubble but abandoned on the track. More clutter was scattered around: Tools; timber; sacks of duracrete-mix...movement at the extreme limits of his glowlamp-light, far along the tunnel, just a glimpse as something disappeared around a corner. A figure?

"2839? Mirus?"

He headed towards the movement, stumbling along the rubble strewn floor. Side-tunnels branched off at intervals, and he checked each one quickly as he advanced. He called again, but his echo fragmented incoherently as it bounced away through the complex of tunnels. Now another noise, a faint scurrying sound.

He moved towards it, more cautious, beginning to have second thoughts about being here. He stopped and listened; the noise was gradually getting louder. All of a sudden, he didn't like it! He turned back the way he came. Trying not to rush. . . but gradually sped up nevertheless. He turned to look behind as the noise got even louder. Then back the way he was heading. . .

Wham!

As a figure rushed out of nowhere, smashing into him and slamming his head violently back against the wall. He bounced forward and went down like a ton of bricks! The mysterious figure stumbled off blindly into the darkness.

EB-4135 weakly lifted his battered head, his consciousness draining away. . .

His glowlamp was lying on its side nearby, shining along the rough floor, and illuminating a thousand tiny pairs of eyes which were scuttling towards him.

And as he finally began to black-out. . .

As he managed one final, broken, panic-stricken yell ...A thousand filthy, scurrying womp rats swarmed over him. . .


	3. Chapter 3

A circle of glowlamp-light hit BA-0005 in the face and he put up a hand to shield his eyes. Krupps urgent whisper came from behind the light "What the hell is going on?"

Krupps shifted the light away from BA-0005's face as he stepped forward from out of the darkness. HE-6464 was with him, alert and with blaster rifle ready. BA-0005 was as pale as his armor, and was trying hard to disguise the relief in his voice at being found. "Glowlamp failed."

"Who yelled?"

"How should I know? I haven't been able to bloody move!" Krupps snatched BA-0005's torch and banged it against the wall. Flicked the switch. It came on. BA-0005 wasn't impressed, "I tell you it wasn't working!"

"Where's EB-4135?"

BA-0005 was struggling to remain patient. He pulled the diagram from his chest plate and tossed it at Krupps. "Take a look. This place is huge! I don't know where 4135 is, or any of them, for that matter."

HE-6464 interupted, "More to the point, what happened to make somebody yell out?"

Krupps was behaving as if he thought it was BA-0005. "Any ideas about that, Corporal?"

"Yes. Rebels."

Krupps was wrong-footed. He hadn't even considered it. "In here?"

HE-6464 shrugged, "That makes sense. They could've got in from the other side of the hill."

Krupps was annoyed with both of them, "How many kriffing Rebels do you think there are around here...?"

HE-6464 interupted again, "Shhh!" HE-6464 was suddenly alert and put a hand over his glowlamp to smother the light. He whispered, "You hear that?"

The other two caught on instantly, argument forgotten, the professional stormtroopers took over as they pulled their weapons and fell into combat readiness, flattening against the wall. Krupps asked, "Which direction?"

"Hard to tell in here." The noise came again. Feet on duracrete. Someone was coming. All their glowlamps were off. They checked both directions along the tunnel... a glow to the left, illuminating the rectangular end of their tunnel.

They swung their blasters towards it, crouching.

Waiting.

Silent.

Glowlight burst around the corner...HE-6464 shouted, "Halt!"

"Who's there?" Mirus's voice cut from the darkness.

"Mirus?"

The three stormtroopers flashed on their glowlamps. Sure enough, it was Mirus, scared half out of his wits by the surprise. They all dropped their blasters, blowing out their breath in relief. Krupps looked at BA-0005 with disdain. "There's your 'Rebels'."

Mirus joined them, irritation taking over, now. "You shouldn't be in here. What're you doing in here?"

"I should be asking that question, Private! What's going on? Where's KR-2839?" Krupps demanded.

"I don't know what you're talking about. I was on my way back to the bunker. Why have you been following around after me?"

"We weren't. . ."

A pause, blaster shots, distant... then the muffled booming of the E-WEB. A split second of realization..."The bunker!"... then they all ran like hell.

BA-0005 and Krupps piled inside and ran along the tunnel, the booming of the heavy blasters getting louder all the time. Mirus and HE-6464 were slower, trailing several yards behind. HE-6464 turned to Mirus, "Stay here. Watch the tunnels." Mirus remained in the Access Tunnel whilst HE-6464 followed BA-0005 and Krupps up the steps into the bunker.

The blasters were pounding again, the air choked with ozone. Newman swung the big blaster from side to side as he fired, an expression of excitement on his face. SC-6661 was at the observation loophole, blasting off bolts as fast as he could work the E-11's bolt. Krupps burst in, and rushed to help at the E-WEB. BA-0005, and then HE-6464, went to the loophole to back up SC-6661. SC-6661 finished his clip. Stepped aside to reload. BA-0005 filled his position. Ready to fire... but he didn't.

He tried to shout over the noise of the cannon. A nudge from Krupps, and Newman stoped firing. "There's nothing out there."

SC-6661 pushed him aside roughly. "What's the matter with you?" But SC-6661 froze in sudden confusion as he looked again outside. The wind-blown hillside stretched out below, still and empty. No movement apart from the driving snow. Muffled firing continues from the Entrance Defense Room, but from nowhere else.

Krupps elbowed SC-6661 aside to look outside for himself. "What were you shooting at?" SC-6661 and Newman remained silent, incredulous, whilst HE-6464 headed for the door.

B

FR-4077 was sweating freely, firing through the loophole in a steady, mechanical rhythm, almost as if in a trance. HE-6464 put his hand on FR-4077's shoulder, and he started violently shaking the other stormtrooper back to reality. Lowered his blaster. He looked around at HE-6464, frightened and confused. "By the Force, they were everywhere! Trying to get in. I thought for a minute..."

"Easy. They've gone now."

C

Krupps kicked an empty ammo box against the wall. "Used up! Shooting at shadows! What's the matter with everybody?"

"They were out there!" SC-6661 responded.

"Then why didn't you hit anything? Look outside! Where are the bodies?"

The others remained silent as HE-6464 wandered back in. Krupps stood there fuming for a few moments before picking up where he left off, "I'd expect it from a trigger-happy school youngling, but you, SC-6661? You should lay off the spice, it's making you see things!"

"4077 saw something too. They can't all be imagining it." HE-6464 stepped in. SC-6661 looked at his unexpected ally curiously.

"They're playing tricks on us; hit and run tactics; psychological warfare." BA-0005 guessed.

"Keep out of it, BA-0005!" Krupps ordered. Krupps turned back to SC-6661, exasperated. "What do we have left?"

SC-6661 answered, "Half a tibanna belt for the E-WEB. Whatever blaster rounds and thermal detonators each of us have."

Newman piped in, "There's a few shells for the anti-walker cannon."

"Against troops! What good is that, you idiot?" Krupps derided the young soldier. Making a decision, he moved purposefully to the hyperwave radio. Picked up the receiver and clicked the generator power controls. Listening. Clicked the handle again.

Listens. . .

He's suddenly was no longer quite so angry. His voice was shaky "The commo's dead!"

D

BA-0005 spread the diagram he found across the table, and HE-6464 leaned over to study it. BA-0005, "It's a site wiring diagram. Not quite a holomap, but almost as good. Look at the size of the place."

"Quite a prize for an advancing army. If they could seize it intact".

"Tell it to Krupps. He can't bloody admit he might be wrong." On cue, Krupps and SC-6661 arrived, still locked in an irritable discussion, SC-6661 firmly pushing for action. "... It won't be an overhead radio signal, it'll be a ground cable. And if it's routed back through the tunnels, the implication's obvious!"

E

Krupps was more subdued, now; suddenly less sure of himself. "Alright, suppose the Rebels are in the tunnels."

"I say we secure the entire complex, not just the bunker, if they're in there, we push them out."

"With what, 6661?" HE-6464 yelled at the stormtrooper.

"With our bare bloody hands, if necessary!" HE-6664 ignored SC-6661's challenging glare. SC-6661 continued trying to persuade Krupps. "If they were in there in force, they'd have stormed the bunker by now. It's got to be a manageable number."

Krupps was thinking about it all. "So you think KR-2839 and EB-4135 are dead?"

"Deserted, or dead. Either way, we can forget them."

"You're all heart, 6661." BA-0005 jibed at the man.

SC-6661 reacted suddenly and viciously, "Shut your mouth, you bloody coward! You had your chance to find them. From what I hear, you preferred to hide away in the dark and do nothing!"

HE-6464 straightened up, shocked at the open accusation, and poised to come between SC-6661 and BA-0005. . . but BA-0005 took it without a flinch. He glanced briefly at Krupps, then glared into SC-0005's eyes, "If it's a scrap you're looking for, you'll have to do better than that." calmly, "Get it into your head once and for all, 6661, I'm not fighting the same war as you."

SC-6661 snorted, "Isn't that the truth!" SC-6661 sneered at BA-0005's refusal to escalate the confrontation. Grinning triumphantly, he turned his attention back to Krupps, still pressing his case, "We can't let them have the tunnels!"

Krupps agonized for several excruciating moments... then reluctantly nodded his acceptance. "Alright. But if we run into too much opposition we fall back to here. My orders only cover this bunker."

But SC-6661 wasn't listening, he excitedly moved to the diagram spread out on the table, smirking at BA-0005. "This should be interesting!"

They prepared for combat:

Electrical tape stuck across the lenses of the glowlamps, leaving only a slit for the beam. Remaining tibanna shared out equally. Equipment strapped on. blasters loaded. Vibrobayonets fixed. Vibroblades and stick-grenades tucked into boots. SC-6661 surreptitiously popped another glitterstim pill...

. . . SC-6661 hastily secured a stick-grenade to the inside handle of the main entrance, a web of wire looping back and forth between the door-bolts and the ring-pull fuse. Newman watched as SC-6661 finished the deadly booby-trap. "Is that to keep them out, or us in?" The youngling asked.

"You catch on quick." SC-6661 grinned.

Newman licked his lips nervously. "Let me come with you into the tunnels."

SC-6661 shook his head, slinging his blaster rifle over his shoulder. "No. You're more use here. You did alright back there, on the E-WEB."

Newman started to protest, but HE-6464, BA-0005, and Krupps appeaedr through the Gas Lock, ready to go. FR-4077 followed, looking at Newman and gesturing back towards the Entrance Defence Room. "It's all yours, kid."

"And keep an eye on the old man!" SC-6661 warned him. With that, SC-6661 spun on his heel and led the others down the steps and into the Access Tunnel. The Access Tunnel door swung open. SC-6661 checked around the corner cautiously before they emerge. SC-6661 had paired himself off with Krupps, who was now even more subdued, for some reason. When they spoke, it was in hushed tones: "We'll go straight for the main entrance; you three sweep the long way around."

"If that's alright with you, Corporal!" SC-6661 jeered.

"Give it a rest, 6661." BA-0005 turned away without further comment, and the two halves of the group cautiously set off in opposite directions.

FR-4077 glanced back to make sure SC-6661 and Krupps were out of earshot. "I sometimes wonder who's really running this unit."

HE-6464 addressed BA-0005, "Why do you let that little bastard keep riling you?"

"What do you want me to do?"

"You could start by telling him what happened back at the ambush. He thinks you chickened out."

"I know what he thinks. And he can believe what he wants to believe."

HE-6464 shook his head. "Sometimes I think you enjoy being hated!"

FR-4077 was intrigued, "What did happen?"

HE-6464 answered, "We were under fire and he came back to pull me clear after I fell. Risked his neck. So if 6661 asks, tell him."

"Shhh!" BA-0005 gestured for him to be quiet, using the excuse that they were approaching the first corner. FR-4077 looked at BA-0005, their earlier misunderstanding clearly on his mind.

FR-4077 asked, "So ... what you said about all those extra rebel troops ..."

"If he said he saw them, 4077, he saw them! And for all we know they could be in here, now, waiting for us."

BA-0005 paused by the corner. Flattening against the wall, he carefully peered around into the darkness, then checked with his glowlamp before nodding the all-clear. They then looked back momentarily along the dark length of the tunnel they've just covered. In the black distance, the pin-pricks of light from SC-6661 and Krupps's glowlamps winked out as they turned an invisible bend. The three of them were now on their own. BA-0005 consulted his hastily copied map. "From now on we'll have to be careful." facing HE-6464, "The leg alright?"

"For the moment. But let me set the pace, will you. I can't go too fast."

"After you."

They set off again into the next length of tunnel. HE-6464 slightly ahead on one side, BA-0005 and FR-4077 on the other side. All of them hugged the wall, blaster in one hand, glowlamp in the other, the masked beams of the glowlamps allowed only sufficient light to see where they were treading, held away from their bodies in case someone took a pot-shot at the light. They were alert to the slightest sound; the faintest trace of glow-light ahead. Ready, if necessary, to fight.

F

Newman was concerned.

The wind was now blowing fiercely outside, blasting flecks of snow through the narrow loophole at which he was positioned. He was doing his best to keep watch, but his eyes were watering against the powerful, freezing draft. Mirus entered the room behind him, and Newman became even more agitated. "Why aren't you watching the front?"

But Mirus no longer seemed to care. He appeared worn out, and was now coughing badly. "What's the point? We can't see anything out there."

"Mirus, they left us in charge at this end! We have a responsibility."

"Look, they're the ones who brought all this down on top of us. We were doing fine until they turned up! "His sudden anger precipitated another coughing fit. He leaned back against the wall to recover. "If the Rebels attack, let the others deal with it. I've done enough. Stang it, I did my bit against the Seperatists twenty-five years ago!"

Newman suddenly started to panic, the responsibility for everything suddenly dumped on his shoulders. He thought fast, trying to reason with the old man. "Look, you can't just give up now. We have to do what we can, and at least warn the others of an attack."

"The danger isn't even out there. It's in those tunnels."

"What are you talking about?"

Mirus looked at Newman defiantly. "Mart told me."

Newman couldn't hide his exasperation. "Your son's dead, Mirus. He died at Endor. You told me so yourself."

"Don't look at me like that! I tell you he talks to me."

"You're confused again, don't you see? Mart is dead!"

"They just think I'm a crazy old man. You all do! But there's something about those tunnels. In there, Mart comes back to me."

Newman was just listening, now, something about Mirus's conviction unsettled him. "Why do you think I've been going in there for the past three weeks? I go to see him. The tunnels are like a doorway, for the dead to come back." Newman couldn't quite believe what he was hearing, but Mirus continued. "Mart told me to be careful; never to let anyone else in. Tonight I found out why. Tonight, when he came back ... others came back with him."

G

SC-6661 and Krupps were proceeding in the same cautious fashion as the other three: SC-6661 led the way like a prowling rancor, visibly itching for a scrap, and checking every side-tunnel and chamber with alert anticipation. Krupps, however, was increasingly unnerved, looking around anxiously at the confined space and trying hard not to betray a clear case of claustrophobia, which was growing as they progressed deeper into the tunnels.

They entered an unfinished section of tunnel, water drippedfrom the roof. After a few yards Krupps paused to study the map, leaning back against the shored wall as he again loosened his collar... A creak, and a stream of dirt spilled from the roof. SC-6661 exclaimed first, "By the Emperor..." They froze, coiled, until the stream abated. "Don't touch a thing. This place is a death-trap!"

And this didn't doanything for Krupps's nerves! A deep breath, and off they go again. Along. . . through into another fully finished section. Whitewashed walls, now. A durasteel doorway ahead and to the right, with stenciled lettering overhead: MUN-R. They took up positions on either side of the door. SC-6661 reached for the handle. He pushed the door open and followed it inside quickly, shining his torch around.

MUNITIONS STORAGE ROOM

Krupps was right behind him, and he stopped in amazement, his anxiety momentarily forgotten at the sight before him: A fully stocked ammunition store, abandoned and forgotten! Row upon row of wooden racks, stacked with turbolaser shells and boxes of assorted charged tibanna. More boxes – thermal detonators, and E-11 blaster rifle and E-WEB rounds, piled in the corners. Enough ammo to defend a bunker for six months, gathering dust!

SC-6661 began to chuckle like an excited lizard-monkey. "I don't believe it!" He was like a youngling in a sweet store; he didn't know where to start! Finally, he crouched over a box of blaster rifle ammo and began to pry it open with his vibrobayonet. "Come on, help me! Now we can fight back properly. Now there's no excuse!"

But Krupps didn't quite seem to share his enthusiasm.

H

HE-6464, BA-0005 and FR-4077 arrived at a junction of several tunnels. They carefully checked each direction. BA-0005 directed them "We need to go left here, but the other tunnels to the right will still have to be checked out."

HE-6464 massaged his thigh gingerly, wincing in pain. "Started bleeding again."

"Look; you stay here. We'll check the other tunnels quickly, then we can move on."

HE6464 thought about it for a second, but shooks his head. "That's stupid. We should all stick..." Faint noise from up ahead and they were instantly alert, hands covering their glowlamps. BA-0005 silently dodged across the intersection and began to creep forward, hugging the wall, crouching with blaster rifle pointed towards the sound. HE-6464 and FR-4077 fell in at the other side of the tunnel.

Scuttling noise again... BA-0005 snapped on his glowlamp, blaster pointed, and a pair of womp rats skittered off into the blackness, squeaking. The stormtroopers blew out their cheeks in relief, uncoiling ...Suddenly, A human shape bursts from a side-tunnel ahead and charged away around a corner, a stormtrooper's armor, glowlamp waving wildly in its hand.

"E chu ta!" BA-0005 screamed.

"Get him! We're behind you!" HE-6464 yelled.

BA-0005 raced after the fleeing figure. HE-6464 and FR-4077 followed a few yards behind, covering BA-0005's back. BA-0005 reached the corner. Quick look, just in time to see the figure dodging around the next corner. BA-0005 ran the length of the tunnel. The other two were still behind. Reached the next junction, another unfinished tunnel. Several yards to the left, a side tunnel branched off, a broken wooden barricade across the mouth, broken as if something had smashed it aside from within.

And from inside, the brief shifting light of a glowlamp, which then went out.

BA-0005 gestured to HE-6464 that the fleeing figure was in the side-tunnel, and whisperd urgently, "That barricade is there for a reason. It could lead to a way out!" HE-6464 nodded encouragement. BA-0005 dodged quickly to the far side of the partly barricaded tunnel mouth. HE-6464 took a position on the near side. FR-4077 hung back, covering them both. They waited, listening.

Nothing.

BA-0005 pointed his glowlamp into the side-tunnel, keeping his head out of the way, and flicked on the beam. Nothing happens. No bolts aimed at the glowlamp. So he peeked around the corner to have a look. A crudely shored, claustrophobic tunnel which ran for several yards before curving off into the blackness. A huge amount of clutter and junk and wooden beams, cast large black pools of shadow. But no sign of anyone.

BA-0005 straightened up. Made a decision. Nodded to HE-6464. Swept quickly around into the tunnel mouth. . . a continuous scream as someone charged out of the blackness, smashing into BA-0005 and bulldozing him back out of the side tunnel and into the far wall, knocking the wind out of him. BA-0005's glowlamp clattered to the floor and the subsequent struggle became a crazy pattern of shifting black shapes in the weak yellow glow. The blind, hand-to-hand combat which followed was rapid and deadly!

HE-6464 lept to BA-0005's assistance. "Wait! It's 2839!"

HE-6464 hesitated at the revelation... but the demented KR-2839 seemed not to hear, turned and clubed HE-6464 mercilessly with a length of timber. HE-6464 went down, out cold.

FR-4077 lept on KR-2839's back, grabbing the arm which held the club. BA-0005 went for the legs, but KR-2839 was ready, spinning around and kicking out viciously... then pushed backwards violently so FR-4077 was slammed against the wall and shaken loose. BA-0005 was into the fray again instantly, barging into KR-2839 and knocking him to the ground, jumping on top of him and shouting, "KR-2839! It's us!"

He still didn't hear. He scrambled free and ran for it.

"What's the matter with him?" FR-4077 gasped.

BA-0005 grabbed his glowlamp and raced after him, FR-4077 right behind. They ran him to ground within seconds, grabbing him from either side and pinning him against the wall as he yelled incoherently. "Fierfek, 2839, get a hold on yourself!"

"2839! Listen to me!" KR-2839 screwed his eyes shut, panting furiously. When he opened them again he had calmed down slightly, his struggles eased. "It's us. You're alright, now."

Recognition slowly seeped into KR-2839's eyes... and he suddenly broke down, sobbing. FR-4077 looked at BA-0005. "Something scared the living hell out of him, and it wasn't us!"

I

SC-6661 and Lieutenant Krupps had left the Munitions Room and were creeping cautiously along a tunnel wall. SC-6661 was now armed to the teeth, pockets and belt bulging with ammo and grenades, and his desire for a confrontation had increased exponentially. ". . . I tell you I heard something."

"If the others had run into trouble there would've been shooting."

"I wouldn't count on it, knowing that lot. They were probably yelling surrender." SC-6661 continued quickly to the next corner, listened for a second to the silence, then peered around with the glowlamp. To the right, a wide main tunnel ran off into blackness. To the left, the same tunnel ran up a shallow slope to the huge durasteel doors of the main tunnel entrance. "Cover me."

He went even before Krupps could get into position. In a running crouch, SC-6661 dashed up the ramp to the durasteel doors, and shined his light over them. The huge bolts were padlocked and rusted into place. A smaller man-size doorway, set into one side of the big door, was locked and sealed. A mesh of fine cobwebs covered the lock. He pushed against the doors with all his weight. They don't shift a millimeter. He put his ear to the doors and listened. . . Just audible above the gusting wind, the faint sound of footsteps crumped through snow. Then, incoherent whispers.

SC-6661 pulled away and dashed back to Krupps, perplexed. "The doors are sealed. Nobody got in this way. But there's definitely someone out there."

Krupps wiped his face, relieved. "As long as they're not in here. He shined his glowlamp around the higher, arched roof of the main tunnel, clearly more comfortable with the extra space, and relaxed slightly.

But SC-6661 remained alert. "There must be another way in we don't know about, a vent; escape shaft; something!" SC-6661 moved off along the main tunnel without waiting for a reply. Krupps fell in behind, reluctantly, as SC-6661 continued his rapid left-right check of the side-tunnels and chambers branching off either side.

"What about the others? We should wait here, where we agreed!"

"We don't even know if they're still coming."

Krupps was losing his patience. "I still haven't seen anything to suggest anybody's in here apart from ourselves!"

But SC-6661 was not listening, froze suddenly, and peered around the corner of an unfinished side-tunnel. He glanced around at Krupps, gesturing with his head for Krupps to take a look at his discovery. Krupps moved curiously to the corner, and SC-6661 illuminated with his glowlamp's beam. . . EB-4135's body, spread-eagled horribly on the floor. Only just recognizable. Covered in womp rats, and half-eaten.

Krupps turned away, covering his mouth and retching. SC-6661 almost appeared pleased. "Satisfied?"

SC-6661 headed into the side-tunnel, kicking at the womp rats as they skittered away into the blackness. Then he knelt beside EB-4135's body. Reached out to look at the wound at the side of his head..."Looks like somebody..." A sudden spasm and EB-4135's body convulsed.

SC-6661 and Krupps jumped, cursing. "By the Emperor!" pause, "Just a muscle spasm. He's dead."

J

KR-2839 was slumped against the tunnel wall, frozen rigid with fear, his entire body trembling. BA-0005 crouched over him, trying his best to sooth his nerves. But KR-2839 was in no shape to hold a conversation; he kept drifting off into a world of his own, ranting. "... got confused. Lost Mirus. Then the others started following me. Whispering to me!"

"It's alright. I was left here in the dark. I know what it's like; the pitch blackness, the distorted sounds. I was frightened, too." BA-0005 reassured him.

"They're in here. They've come back for us!"

J

Meanwhile, FR-4077 had been tending to the unconscious HE-6464, where he fell several yards away. He gestured now at BA-0005, and BA-0005 left KR-2839 momentarily to join him. "6464's had a bad blow. Give me a hand, will you?"

BA-0005 supported HE-6464's head while FR-4077 got to work with a bacta dressing, glancing at KR-2839 anxiously. BA-0005 gestured at KR-2839, "He's finally cracked. I don't think he even knows where he is."

"Could be delayed blaster-shock. Maybe he clobbered 4135 the same way he did 6464." They both glanced over at him.

KR-2839 was listening to their distant, incoherent whispers... but was staring beyond his present location...elsewhere... Another place, another time.

_A desolate stretch of bombed-out hover railway marshaling yard, dotted with rubble and ruined sheds and disused repulser-train stock. A small, agitated crowd of stormtroopers._

_Confusion._

_KR-2839, terrified, was being frogmarched towards the other troopers by two black-uniformed ISB guards. Somewhere nearby., someone was whispering a prayer. . ._

Back inside the tunnel, HE-6464 moaned, delirious.

"It's no good. We need to get him back to the bunker." FR-4077 claimed, gestured at KR-2839 "Both of them."

BA-0005 looked dubious. "Easier said than done. Let's see if 2839 can walk himself back."

They left HE-6464 momentarily, heading the short distance back along the tunnel to where KR-2839 was still crouched. Taking one arm each, they lifted him to his feet. KR-2839 wasn't too sure about it, looking blankly from one to the other. Then they tried to walk him back towards where HE-6464 was slumped, back towards the barricaded side-tunnel...

As KR-2839 experienced another flashback. _Still being frogmarched by the ISB guards. . ._

But here and now KR-2839 resisted, pushing backwards with his feet. BA-0005 and FR-4077 tried to force him, and he started becoming upset. "No. . ."

"Easy! We're going to get 6464, then we're going back to the bunker. You can rest there." FR-4077 stated calmly. They tried again, taking KR-2839's weight and pulling him forward. His eyes focused on the side-tunnel ahead...

"No!" He suddenly went mad! He broke from their grasp, violently. Turned and ran.

"Fierfek, not again!" BA-0005 and FR-4077 tried to catch him, but he was too fast. He disappeared around a corner. "Let him go. We can't leave 6464."

"He's scared out of his mind. Maybe something did happen down here."

"Maybe we'd better check that tunnel while we're here. That seemed to be what was spooking him." They checked HE-6464 again quickly, then turned their attention to the barricaded side-tunnel. They stepped through the broken barricade cautiously. Advance along the tunnel. Checked each black pool of shadow, cast by the clutter all around. A squeaking noise now became apparent as they followed the curve around to the left. FR-4077 shined his glowlamp down suddenly upon a carpet of womp rats ahead. "If there's womps in here, there's got to be something else."

Then their lights began to flicker simultaneously. They froze, worried. Shaking their glowlights to get them working properly, but they continued to flicker intermittently. BA-0005 and FR-4077 exchanged a glance then gingerly pressed on, being careful not to startle the womp rats, which retreated slowly from the advancing light. The walls here were bare, not even shored with wood – carved out of the dirt and left abandoned even before being strengthened... and suddenly FR-4077 cried out involuntarily as his glowlamp illuminated a wall ahead. BA-0005, too, shifted his glowlamp's beam up from the floor, and reacted similarly, recoiling in dread. "May the Force be with us!"

Human corpses, dozens of them. Ancient; half-rotted and half-mummified. Suspended from floor to ceiling in the bare dirt of the excavated, crumbling wall. And wherever they can reach, the army of womp rats were feeding off the desiccated remains. BA-0005 retched and backs away, hugging the tunnel wall. "Mirus's story. The Plague victims!"

FR-4077 covered his air-filters, a hideous realization dawning on his face. "E chu ta, that's it. Mirus!"

"What?"

"That could be what's wrong with Mirus. Don't you see; he's got the Plague!"

They shuddered in horror simultaneously and involuntarily. BA-0005 pulled out his handkerchief and covered his nose and mouth air-filters defensively. "That's no good! You get it from flea bites! Womp rat fleas!"

"That's it; fierfek this place. We're getting out." But before they could even move, something began to happen... As if triggered by their own voices, a faint whispering began to emanate from all around them. Multiple voices overlapping. Unclear at first, but as it became louder, odd phrases stood out. It was a whispered prayer, but far from comforting, in this context, quite the opposite. It came from nowhere, and everywhere, with no explanation.

BA-0005 and FR-4077, both terrified , didn't need to say another word. They turned and ran instinctively, back around to where HE-6464 was lying. They dragged him to his feet... and got the hell out of there!

K

SC-6661 and Krupps were also at the receiving end of the ghostly whisperings. They were quickly backing away up the tunnel towards the main entrance, blasters aimed and ready, backing away from the whispering sounds emanating from the darkness. Krupps was now really edgy, and beginning to hyperventilate; SC-6661 was frustrated at not being able to spot a visible enemy. "They're playing games with us! Now do you believe me!"

Krupps most certainly did. And as they neared the main entrance, another disturbance made them spin around, even more alarmed... a sudden rattling of the huge durasteel doors, as if someone was trying to get in. "They're everywhere! Back to the ammo dump."

A flat-out run back to the Munitions Room, the ghostly voices followed behind them. SC-6661 turned to stand and fight. But Krupps kept going, back towards the bunker. "What're you doing?"

"We're pulling back! I told you before!"

"That was before we found the ammo. We can't leave it for them."

"It's too late, dammit! We can't hold them off. Come on!"

Krupps continued back, into the dangerous unfinished section they passed through on the way. SC-6661 was still arguing as he chased after him, "We've got a responsibility here. Let's stand and fight!" But Krupps shook his head, no longer even trying to hide his fear. SC-6661 stopped, determined to go no further. "Then I'll do it alone."

"You'll do as you're kriffing told, for once! Now come on!"

SC-6661 ignored him and turned back towards the Munitions Room... and suddenly the whisperings were shatteringly loud, seeming to press down upon them. And even SC-6661 cowered involuntarily before it.

L

KR-2839 raced blindly through the tunnels, bouncing off the walls and around the corners. Enveloped by the overpowering whispers, and out of his mind once again with fear.

Uncontrollably yelling.

Around another corner... and there's a light ahead. Straight towards it at full pelt, still wailing crazily...

M

Krupps and SC-6661 turned in panic to face this new 'menace' as it raced towards them from out of the darkness, a loud yell getting louder, louder now than even the other noises. Krupps crouched with his blaster aimed. "Who goes there? Stop! - Stop!"

But it kept coming. Closer...Louder...Krupps opened fire. SC-6661 joined in, firing repeatedly towards the approaching figure.

KR-2839 was stopped dead in his tracks. Jerking like a puppet as bolts ripped into him. Still being riddled even as he went down.

SC-6661 and Krupps continued firing, unaware, caught up in the frenzy of the moment. But the pounding shockwave of the blasterfire was too much for the fragile roof. A roof-beam shifts; dirt began to pour down. SC-6661 shouted and scrambled backwards... but Krupps was too slow. A loud crack, and the entire roof crashed down on top of him.

N

BA-0005, FR-4077, and HE-6464 had stopped where they were, listening to the dying echoes of the distant blaster fire. And then the sudden, oppressive silence. BA-0005 and FR-4077 peered around, frightened and unsure. But slowly got a grip on themselves again, now the terrifying ghostly sounds had abated. FR-4077 gasped, "This is insane! This can't be happening!"

"Maybe the old man was right about this place."

HE-6464, meanwhile, still supported between them, was drifting in and out of consciousness. Confused, "What is it? Are they attacking?"

"We don't know what the hell is going on."

"What do we do?" FR-4077 asked.

BA-0005 looked at HE-6464, his mind raced as he weighed up fear against duty, friendship against responsibility. "Palps only knows. One thing at a time!" They hoisted HE-6464 upright again, and with a fearful glance behind, pushed on as quickly as they can.

O

SC-6661 was frozen against the wall, panting with the adrenalin rush and stared at the nearby cave-in as the clouds of dust begin to clear. Krupps's feet were sticking out from underneath the huge pile of rubble, twitching violently and accompanied by an almost inaudible, smothered screaming.

SC-6661 did nothing.

He remained coldly immobile until the screaming died and the feet laid still, if anything, annoyed that the faint noise might have attracted attention. He continued listening to the silence for a few moments. Satisfied, he lowered himself into a combat-crouch. Glided forward to the wall of rubble which almost - but not quite, blocked off the width of the tunnel. Listened again, then shined his glowlamp through towards the plasma-riddled shape lying motionless fifteen yards away. He silently climbed through the jagged gap and crept forward. Reached the body, rolled it over and studied the face.

"2839!" For a moment, SC-6661 was curiously unmoved by the irony of the situation. Then he laughed.

A silent, panting laugh as he covered his vocal speaker and sat back on his haunches. Laughing until tears began to drip from his eyes, and it was no longer clear if he was laughing or crying.

P

Inside the bunker, Newman had made his mind up. He marched through towards the Access Tunnel, torch in hand, Mirus trotted along behind. "Don't be a fool! Whatever the shooting was, it's over. You can't help them."

Newman paused at the bottom of the steps and glanced at Mirus with a curious expression - a mixture of fear and distaste. Then he headed quickly into the Access Tunnel. Again, Mirus followed along behind. "What are you trying to do; impress them? Why don't you ever listen to me, you little idiot, Newman!"

But Newman broke into a trot, not wanting to listen, and vanished around the corner into the tunnel complex. Without his glowlamp, Mirus couldn't follow. He was suddenly alone. "Alright, then! Get yourself killed! For what?"

After a moment he turned back towards the bunker. But something made him hesitate, drew his attention back towards the blackness of the tunnels. He leaned forward, peering... Is that a shape in the darkness. . .? "Mart?"

His face twitched into a half-smile... and he began to hold a conversation with someone unseen. "Mart, what's happening? I did as you said; I kept away!" a pause as he listened, "I couldn't stop the others; they wouldn't listen to me. Tell me what's going on." He listened again, and the smile dropped from his face. "By the Force! No."

He began slowly retreating to the bunker, still listening to _'Mart's'_ silent instructions, his unease growing. "Oh, Emperor's Eyes! Yes. Yes, alright! I'm going!"

He reached the door and hesitated just for a moment... only to hear the faint sound of multiple footsteps approaching from the tunnels. Mirus jumped through the doorway and slammed the heavy durasteel door closed behind him, locking the bolts. He raced quickly up the stairs, turned for the door, and realized the booby-trap grenade was still wired to the handle.

Someone began hammering on the Access Tunnel door. Without further hesitation, Mirus ran for the Crew Room and straight for the Emergency Escape. He pulled the durasteel hatch open.

Q

BA-0005 banged again on the door to the bunker. "Mirus! Newman! For Empire's sake, it's us!"

He turned an expression of ghastly exasperation at FR-4077 and HE-6464 behind him. "I don't believe it!"

R

Mirus dragged himself through the short crawl-way and into the narrow duracrete chute which led straight up to the roof of the bunker, four meters above. As he started climbing the iron ladder, the wind howled overhead.

Mirus pushed aside the snow-covered camouflage-netting which covered the top of the chute. Cautiously poked his head above the surface, squinting to see in the driving snowstorm. Holding a white handkerchief of surrender in his hand, he began to haul himself clear of the chute.

Something moved behind him.

A figure, approaching quickly and silently.

Mirus didn't see until it's too late, and he's. . .


	4. Chapter 4

A

Suddenly the kid was grabbed from behind, a vibroblade at his throat.

Newman's eyes were wide with fear as his assailant hesitated, then whispered quickly in his ear, "Shhh!"

SC-6661 eased his grip around Newman's mouth, but left the vicious-looking commando vibroblade prodding into his windpipe. "What the hell are you doing in here? Were you looking to get out?"

"No! I heard the shooting. Came to help!"

"What about keeping lookout, you idiot?"

"There's a snowstorm blowing outside. We couldn't see a thing. Couldn't hear a thing." SC-6661 was still dubious. "Mirus is still keeping watch, but I thought I'd be more help in here!"

SC-6661 let go, and Newman looked around at him for the first time: SC-6661's helmet was missing and his face was taut with tension, his eyes containing the first faint gleam of insanity.

SC-66661 quickly checked in both directions, listening intently to the silence, then whispered urgently. "Are you really ready to help? To do whatever's required?"

"Yes."

"Ready to take on the responsibilities of wearing that uniform?" SC-6661 pointed at Newman's gray Empire Youth outfit.

Despite his obvious fear, Newman replied defiantly. "Yes."

"Then do as I say. Without question. You understand?" Newman nodded, and SC-6661 quickly continued, "They're in here. The Rebels. There can't be many, but they're playing tricks. Trying to confuse us. Pick us off one by one."

Newman nodded again as SC-6661 hands him a couple of clips for his E-11 blaster. "The Loot's dead; the others can't be trusted; so it's up to us. We give the enemy nothing!"

B

HE-6464 was slowly coming around, taking a sip from BA-0005's water flask.

They were hunched nervously beside the sealed door to the bunker: FR-4077 kept watch towards the tunnels; BA-0005 wiped HE-6464's brow with a wet handkerchief. "The Emperor only knows what is happening."

FR-4077 had an idea, "Maybe we've been hit with some kind of nerve gas."

"E chu ta!"

"Making us hallucinate. It's the only thing that makes sense."

"It would explain a lot..." But there was an edge in BA-0005's voice, as if he's not really convinced.

FR-4077, however, was sure. "It explains everything!"

HE-6464 sat up a little straighter, squinting painfully as his befuddled mind struggled with the situation. "And the others?"

"Who knows? The shooting stopped pretty quickly, then nothing."

HE-6464 gestured at the bunker door: "So what now?"

"They're not answering. I think they heard us coming and assumed we were Rebels. Maybe they're just scared and keeping quiet, or maybe they've already surrendered."

"In which case there could be platoon of rebel scum at the other side of this door, listening to us..."

"... or heading right for us through the tunnels."

FR-4077 wiped his mouth nervously. "Both, knowing our luck! The problem is, if we are lapsing into hallucinations, we can't be sure of anything we see or hear. Anything!"

C

Newman was carefully piling cannon shells onto a bed of wood and sack-cloth, constructed against the base of a fully-laden shell-rack. SC-6661 troted over, carrying a couple of broken open shell cases. "Wait a minute..."

He poured some of the tibanna dust from the shell cases over Newman's bonfire-type construction, then slowly backed away towards the door, leaving a trail along the duracrete floor, "Alright. More wood and sacking on top. Quickly!"

"What happens to us when this lot goes up?"

"Don't worry. We won't be around here. We've got other things to take care of." SC-6661 smiled with secret amusement. But, as if on cue to wipe the smile away, the ghostly noises began again, very faint at first, this time a distant, unearthly mutterings and sobbing. Newman crouched, horrified, hearing the sounds for the first time, growing pale as the full reality of the situation dawned upon him.

SC-6661 flattened himself beside the doorway, listening. He's perfectly calm as he spoke, "They're coming again."

D

FR-4077 and BA-0005 scuttled to the end of the tunnel, peering around into the blackness as the muttering draws nearer. FR-4077 was about to lose it, "By the Force, what now?"

HE-6464 joined them, like Newman, he too was hearing this for the first time. He couldn't quite believe it. "Listen to it! It has to be the Rebels, trying to panic us."

"So what do we do?"

"Blow that door, if we can. Now!"

"But it'll give away our position."

BA-0005 faced HE-6464, "I'm with you. Let's try it." BA-0005 pulled a stick grenade from his boot. Got a nod of readiness from the other two. Unscrewed the cap. Pulled the loop of string to pop the fuse. . .Tossed the grenade the length of the Access Tunnel, dropping it smack at the base of the Bunker door.

All three piled out into the main tunnel, taking cover either side of the Access Tunnel mouth. Three seconds. . . four. . . five. . .

Blang! and the sharp, deafening blast reverberated away throughout the tunnels, and even here, the lined duracrete walls and ceiling seemed to creak under the strain.

E

SC-6661 and Newman listened to the dying echoes of the blast. "That was the booby-trap! They're coming in from both ends, now. Are you ready?"

Newman nodded, pale and trembling.

SC-6661 took out his glitterstim pills, shook one into Newman's hand, and tipped the remainder, five or six, into his own mouth. Newman pulled out a small hip-flask and offers it SC-6661. And this time, SC-6661 took it. Washed down his pills with a belt of booze. Newman did the same.

Then SC-6661 crouched with his wind-proof sparkstick, touching off the trail of explosives on the floor. As it fizzed quickly towards the make-shift bonfire, SC-6661 took a final deep breath, hoisting his blaster. "This is it. If it moves, shoot!"

He led the way out into the tunnels.

F

BA-0005's glowlamp bore a path through the thick cloud of smoke and dust as he quickly felt his way, coughing and choking, along the Access Tunnel. He emerged from the fog to find the bunker door dented, but intact. His face was a picture of despair. He kicked at the door impotently as HE-6464 arrived behind him. "Fierfek! If anything, it's jammed in tighter!"

HE-6464 joined in, kicking at the door as best he can with his good leg, but it's useless. "You scum! Open up!" He gave up, slumping against the wall as a wave of dizziness overwhelms him momentarily. BA-0005 stopped, too. "Alright. Alternative plan. Can you run?"

"Not much choice, is there."

They reluctantly turned away and scurried back to where FR-4077 was guarding the doorway into the tunnels. The ghostly noises were still apparent, and even closer now. "Stang it, that can't to be real!"

HE-6464 to BA-0005, "So what is this alternative plan?"

"Find 6661 and Krupps? Find the main entrance? Take your pick!" The three glanced at each other, but none could think of anything better.

As they dodged out of the Access Tunnel doorway and advanced in a well-rehearsed maneuver, FR-4077 set the pace at point, BA-0005 and HE-6464 guarded their rear. "This is some freking Empire Day, alright!"

And following them slowly all the way, the ghostly mutterings of the unseen pursuer.

G

MUNITIONS STORAGE ROOM

The dry sack-cloth bed of the bonfire burst into flames as the fizzing fuse-trail hit it.

The flames built quickly through the tangled lattice of wood, licking at the durasteel cases of the piled tibanna shells. . .

G

FR-4077 gestured for the others to follow as he advanced around a corner. BA-0005 and HE-6464 trailed after him, still watching the rear...flashes from the darkness ahead, followed immediately by pounding blasterfire.

Bolts chopped into the walls, into the floor. They scrambled backwards in panic, returning to cover around a corner, still firing blindly back towards the unseen sniper, until their blasters clicked on empty.

"I'm out!" BA-0005 yelled.

"Me too." HE-6464 answered.

FR-4077 fished one final five-round tibanna magazine from his pocket. Pushed it into his blaster rifle with a trembling hand. "Last chance, then." He fired once around the corner, then they ran for it along the side-tunnel in which they had taken refuge.

G

SC-6661, in the shelter of a recessed doorway, lowered his smoking E-11 and quickly changed magazines, listening.

Newman, meanwhile, was shaking like a leaf, for this was his first ever taste of running combat. SC-6661 hissed at him: "They're getting away! Come on!"

Newman followed along blindly as SC-6661 broke cover.

H

They clattered along the side-tunnel, stealth now sacrificed for speed. FR-4077 was pulling ahead, but BA-0005, dragging along HE-6464, was unable to keep up. FR-4077 skided to a halt at a junction of cross-tunnels, and checked in each direction.

A moment of dreadful, realization...

Far along the tunnels, high-lighted as just the vaguest of flitting, ambiguous shapes, figures seemed to be dodging from cover to cover, in every direction. And the uncanny voices continued menacingly.

As B-0005 and HE-6464 arrived behind him, FR-4077 pulled back, his face ashen and fearful. "By the Emperor, they're everywhere! We don't have a chance!"

BA-0005 took FR-4077's place, peering around the corner. "Where are they? I can't see..."

But FR-4077 turned to face the direction they had just come from, footsteps were now rapidly approaching along their tunnel... and FR-4077 was moving to meet them. "This is it. We've nothing left to fight with."

"4077, wait...!" HE-6464 begged. "Let's try to reason with them. They can't kill us, it's Empire day!"

BA-0005's not convinced; he pulled HE-6464 around the corner, away from the approaching footsteps, looking around wildly for other signs of threat, his vibrobayonet ready...

FR-4077 continued forward, tossing his blaster rifle aside and raised his hands, "Enough! We surrender. Don't shoot!"

Glowlight bursts from the blackness ahead. FR-4077 stopped, pinned like a moth in the glare. "We give up! Do you hear?"

"I hear." SC-6661's voice cut from the pitch blackness

FR-4077 was startled by the familiar voice. He dropped his hands. "6661! Thank the Force! Quick, they're all over the place."

BA-0005 and HE-6464, too, were relieved. They quickly stepped back around the corner, shielding their eyes against the glare from SC-6661's torch. The dialogue exchange was rapid, HE-6464 went first, "Did you find the way out? Where is it?"

SC-6661 moved the light away from their eyes, allowing them to see the blaster pistol he was pointing at them, and the E-11 which Newman also has trained on them. "Nobody's getting out. Not them. Or us."

BA-0005 could tell instantly from SC-6661's expression that something's not right. "Where'd you get all the ammo, 6661? What's going on? Who's in the bunker?"

"What's going on is this: The Loot's dead. So are 4135 and 2839. And lacking a suitable replacement, I've assumed command."

"E chu ta! What happened?"

"You three weren't at the rendezvous, that's what happened."

"Now wait a minute..." BA-0005 defended the group.

"Never where you should be, 0005! But this is the last time." to Newman, "Take a look, kid; this is the reason we're losing the war!"

"For Palpatine's sake, 6661, they're just around the corner! Do something!" FR-4077 begged.

But SC-6661 merely straightened his arm, aiming even more deliberately at FR-4077's face. "The reason we've been pulling back for the last six months! Cowards who won't kriffing fight!"

The tension was suddenly electric. Newman, too, now saw the way things were heading, and began to shuffle nervously. FR-4077 pleaded with SC-6661. "We've had nothing to fight with! Just show us the way out, will you!"

"Don't worry about the Rebels. I've taken care of that. But first things first. Time to weed out the traitors."

BA-0005 didn't wait for SC-6661 to continue. He looked straight into Newman's eyes and addressed him. "Don't listen to him. Can't you see? He's half out of his mind!"

"Time to prove yourself, kid! They don't deserve to wear that armor. Prove that you do."

Newman looked at SC-6661. "What?"

"Do I have to spell it out?"

Newman looked at the others, wide-eyed, his blaster rifle still pointed at them. "But..."

"Don't listen to him!" BA-0005 told the boy.

"They're traitors and cowards! You know the law. Shoot them!"

"I can't. . . I can't just. . ."

But SC-6661 suddenly grabbed Newman's hair with his free hand, and shook his head violently. "Stang you! That's an order! Do it!"

Newman was trembling as he aimed his blaster rifle at BA-0005 and screwed his eyes shut, tensing himself for the shot. . . BA-0005 waited for it. . .

A terrific blast, ripped through the complex as the distant Munitions Room finally, inevitably went up! The walls shook. SC-6661, off balance, let go of Newman and opened fire on the others himself.

FR-4077 was hit in the arm as he instinctively charged SC-6661, crashing into him and knocking him off his feet. BA-0005 knocked Newman's blaster aside and slapped him hard across the face, furious! He continued slapping the kid back and forth.

Another deep blast shook the tunnels. SC-6661 was on his back on the floor, scrabbling for his glowlamp and blaster. BA-0005 shouted to the others: "This way! Run!"

FR-4077 and HE-6464 helped each other. BA-0005 grabbed Newman by the scruff of the neck and dragged him away. FR-4077 saw the danger ahead, "Not that way! The rebels!"

"I know what I'm doing! Come on!" And BA-0005 led them straight forward without hesitation, across the junction and along the next tunnel. SC-6661 climbed to his feet, watching as the others escaped into the darkness. And he began to emit, incongruously, a growling moan of frustration. . . as the distant explosions continued, almost drowning out the ghostly mutterings. . . a deep, extended wailing moan, which slowly built in pitch and fervor into a long, furious, bellow of insane rage!

The other four were suddenly running through a nightmare!

SC-6661's distant wail echoed around them and seemed to initiate an answering ghostly chorus of horrific shouts and screams of anguish. Souls, literally, in torment! The group was on the verge of going to pieces in fear and confusion. They scrambled recklessly along, covering their ears against the screaming and pounding explosions which threatened to deafen them. But then. . .

"There! In there!" And the four fugitives racedd towards a doorway in the tunnel wall ahead. . . and pile inside.

GENERATOR ROOM

BA-0005 bolted the durasteel door behind them. But there was still no escape, the blood-chilling noises were in here with them, even louder, if anything.

They backed away and huddled together in a corner, covering their ears and screwing their eyes shut, quite literally frozen with fear, nowhere else to run. It seemingly couldn't get any worse, when. . . The cacophony of noises began to fade, and one particular voice took precedence, a voice whispering a prayer...

BA-0005 opened his eyes wide with an expression of horrified recognition..."By the Force! It is them!"

The whispering overlapped into ... BA-0005's fragmented visual recollections of a horrific event...

_The same hover railway marshaling yard KR-2839 saw before, but this time from BA-0005's perspective._

_He and other members of the unit - HE-6464, FR-4077, EB-4135, KR-2839 and SC-6661 are being marched towards an isolated, bombed-out area by Lieutenant Krupps and the two black uniformed ISB guards._

_Ahead, an ISB captain waits beside a pit which is being dug by a large group of prisoners, themselves older uniformed clone stormtroopers, Kamino clones, possibly deserters, stripped of helmets and equipment, who are working at the blaster-point of a third ISB guard._

_Some are working with spades, others are forced to scratch at the dirt with bare hands, trying not to look at the approaching stormtroopers, as if to deny their existence. One clone prisoner is already kneeling, muttering the loud, but whispered mandolorian prayer which continues relentlessly..._

_Now, the prisoners become agitated as Krupps's troopers arrive in a broken line beside the pit. A couple of the prisoners break down suddenly, moaning, muttering and sobbing. As BA-0005 stares down into the trench with appalled anticipation, the identical faces etching themselves into his memory, one prisoner in particular catches his gaze, and stares back with an expression of silent pleading._

_KR-2839 has begun trembling violently. He turns away in mounting fear and tries to walk back the way they've come, but the ISB guards, laughing, trot after him, spin him around and frog-march him back towards the others. The ISB Captain now seems in a hurry to get it over with. He passes an order to Krupps, gesturing at the prisoners, his intention unmistakable..._

_And at this defining moment of truth, each stormtrooper reacts in his own way,_

_Krupps turns to his troopers and reluctantly relays the order._

_SC-6661 raises his blaster rifle at the cowering prisoners._

_KR-2839, in terrified, trembling submission, follows suit._

_The others are frozen with indecision...The ISB Captain shouts the order again, increasingly angry._

_FR-4077 finally, reluctantly raises his E-11._

_EB-4135 and HE-6464 remain frozen. Only BA-0005 actively revolts. He turns on the others, knocking their blasters aside and pushing them back from the pit. Arguing with Krupps and the ISB captain..._

_HE-6464 is now trying to hold him back for his own good... And during the utter confusion, several of the prisoners take their last chance. They try to scramble out of the pit. Three or four even make it out. A couple clones run for it. One rushes at the ISB Captain, hands outstretched. The ISB Captain shouts a warning... Krupps shoots the would-be assailant._

_SC-6661 turns and opens fire on the rest of the clone prisoners mercilessly. EB-4135, FR-4077 and KR-2839 fire almost as a reflex, drawn in by the sudden panic. The prisoners are cut down under the hail of plasma bolts. BA-0005, still being restrained by HE-6464, watches in horror._

_The blasterfire ceases._

_But several bodies still twitch and moan from the pit ...The stormtroopers stare down at what they've done._

_SC-6661 coolly changes his blaster's tibanna, just in case. KR-2839, weeping, drops to his knees. The others try vainly to cover up their revulsion. And meanwhile, the three ISB men begin to amuse themselves by pushing the heaps of excavated dirt back into pit with their feet. As the dirt spills down onto the pile of bodies, the ones still alive begin to scream..._

... the same screams which BA-0005, FR-4077, HE-6464, and Newman were hearing now.

BA-0005 looked at the others, and with the exception of Newman, each returns the same expression of horrified recognition. Newman's expression is simply one of frozen terror.

The screams diminished again to a series of quietly muttering voices, the very essence of which was frighteningly threatening.

FR-4077 was almost losing it. "2839 was right. They've come back! They're making all this happen! Turning us against each other!"

I

As shuffling feet seemed to approach from the blackness, SC-6661 turned to confront whoever it is. He appeared perfectly, almost unreasonably calm as he addressed the unseen newcomers. "I'm not afraid of you. I've got an Empire to protect me!"

He held out his Medal of Valor, 2nd Class, and began to laugh...

J

An inhuman pounding began on the durasteel door.

"Is it 6661? It must be 6661!" HE-6464 asked in a rising panic.

"Whoever it is, they know we're in here." BA-0005 was looking around in controlled panic. Spied something. "Give me a hand!"

A metal grille was set into the duracrete floor next to the air filtration unit. BA-0005 took out his vibrobayonet and began to pry the grille free. FR-4077 caught on and kneeled to help him with trembling hands. Yet another huge explosion shook the fabric of the tunnel system, and cracks began to appear in the walls.

The pounding on the door continued, as if a huge hammer were being swung against it. "Quickly!"

They wrenched the grille free, and BA-0005 briefly leaned into the dark horizontal shaft, shining his glowlamp either way. "Alright! In!"

Another bang, and the door shook on its hinges. FR-4077 got into the shaft like a shot. "Which way?"

"Either! Just go!" BA-0005 yelled at Newman, "You next!"

"We can't just leave SC-6661 behind!" The boy whined.

"You still think he's such a hero? Because he wears that medal? Then stay with him!"

Newman made a hasty decision. Clambered into the shaft, followed by HE-6464. Another huge bang and the door rattled dangerously. BA-0005 ducked into the shaft after them.

A tight fit! Solid duracrete. No going back. FR-4077 struggled ahead as fast as he could. The others crawled along, head to foot behind him, already regretting it. The pounding continued behind them. "I can't see how far it goes. What if it's a dead-end?"

"It has to come out somewhere. Just keep going!" HE-6464 encouraged FR-4077.

A final bang from back in the Generator Room, and the muffled crash of the door giving way. BA-0005 pushed them ahead, "They're through the door."

Everybody shifted up yet another gear, scrabbling along as fast as is possible on elbows and knees. FR-4077 was beginning to panic. His glowlamp revealed a blank wall dead ahead; a turn? "By the Emperor!"

A bit closer. Not a turn, it's a. . ."Dead end! It's a dead end!"

"It can't be. Keep going!"

FR-4077 scrambled the last few yards, hoping against hope. "E chu ta!"

"Up! Look up!"

FR-4077 shined his glowlamp upwards. An durasteel grille! The others piled up behind FR-4077 as he tried to push the grille open. "No go!"

And now something's coming slowly up the shaft behind BA-0005. . ."They're coming. Get out!"

FR-4077 and Newman braced their shoulders against the overhead grille and pushed. It won't budge! Again. . . PUSH!

The grille burst open. FR-4077 and Newman were out in a flash. HE-6464 next, dragged out. Then BA-0005. Half-way out when. . . his legs were grabbed from behind.

Is it SC-6661?

He yelled and kicked himself free.

As the blasts continued, tearing the tunnels apart behind them, they ran for their lives. And they were not the only ones. The colony of womp rats, driven mad by the explosions, was running in all directions, scratching and tearing at anything in their path. Their numbers increasing as the stormtroopers continued their reckless flight, cursing and pleading with a dead Emperor for help as they went.

They tried to go one way, but the roof was already coming down. Another direction, but a virtual river of crazed womp rats was pouring towards them! They couldn't go back, only one way remains. . . Forward, into the unfinished section where they had encountered KR-2839, and back to the barricaded side-tunnel! They froze in panic.

Knowing it was a dead-end.

BA-0005's mind was racing. Searching for a way out. Meanwhile, the walls were crumbling. Womp Rats were scampering wildly all around them jumping at their legs and gnawing at their boots.

It was a living-hell!

And just for good measure, SC-6661's insane shouting began to echo towards them. "There's no way out, 0005! And we're coming!"

For some reason, everybody looked instinctively to BA-0005. And his expression showed he's suddenly thinking again, a ray of hope on his face as he dug into his belt pouches. "What do we have? Turn it all out."

Everybody began scrabbling through their pockets and pouches, grasping at any last straw. Pulling things out: vibroblades; bacta bandages; compasses; signal flares...BA-0005 grabbed the flares from FR-4077, and pulled the folding entrenching spade from his belt. No time to even explain. "Come on!"

And he rushed into the barricaded side-tunnel. HE-6464 and Newman, who didn't know what was in there, followed him in, but FR-4077 took a few steps and stopped. Won't go any nearer. BA-0005, HE-6464, and Newman rushed into the chamber of horrors BA-0005 had seen before. This time it was worse: The tremors from the distant explosions were shaking the earth loose from the walls, revealing even more bodies, their mummified limbs moved as if alive.

HE-6464 and Newman had a moment to react with predictable shock and fear, then their glowlamps flickered and died!

A moment of blackness, accompanied by fearful shouts.

A flare shoots out, bounces off the ceiling and into a corner, crackling as it illuminates the chamber with blue, flickering light. BA doesn't wait another second. Begins dragging sacks of duracrete mix against the wall containing the corpses, piling them up, yelling as he does so. "Help me! They can't be buried very deep. We can't be far beneath the surface!"

HE-6464 caught on straight away. Unfolded his entrenching spade and clambered on top of BA-0005's makeshift platform, and began digging into the roof, corpses inches away from his face in the wall. Dirt began to shower down.

Newman managed to gather himself sufficiently to take over from BA-0005, dragging more sacks over to build the platform higher. And BA-0005 joined HE-6464, hacking furiously up into the roof.

K

FR-4077 was hovering indecisively just inside the broken barricade.

SC-6661's voice called again out again, closer. "Newman? Where are you? 4077?"

FR-4077 looked one way, then the other, trapped between two equally unappealing options. He was hyperventilating. Trying to keep himself together. He bashed himself on his helmet's forehead with the palm of his hand. . . and turned decisively to confront SC-6661, his vibrobayonet gripped tightly in his fist as he rushed back out through the barricade.

L

Only now did BA-0005 notice FR-4077 wasn't with them. "Where's 4077?" He jumped down, tossing his spade to Newman, and retreated back along the side-tunnel whilst Newman took over digging.

BA-0005's light was still not working, but he proceeded as far back into the gloom as he could, calling out. "4077? 4077?"

There was the sound of a violent scuffle from the darkness. Then a single shot.

And SC-6661's voice, called over the continuing rumble of detonations, "4077 died like a dog, 0005! And you're next!"

A sudden anger surged through BA-0005. "I'm ready for you, 6661! Come and get me!"

M

HE-6464 and Newman had dug a meter upwards into the already shifting, crumbling roof. A huge clump of dirt fell away suddenly and the head of a corpse swung down, dangling. Newman screeched! HE-6464 was shaken, but instantly continued digging to one side.

N

BA-0005 was stumbling forward, vibrobayonet in hand, towards the approaching glow from SC-6661's glowlamp.

Suddenly SC-6661 was there, framed in the mouth of the side tunnel. And in the blackness behind him, only hinted at by the glow of his light, was a suggestion of several ghostly figures. Their muttering, ghostly voices still unintelligible, but they seemed almost to be offering evil encouragement to the crazed instrument of their vengeance, SC-6661!

BA-0005 was shaken to the core by the sight, but held his ground, trying to convince himself he was seeing things. "Put the blaster down, 6661! I'll fight you! That's what you wanted."

"Wrong! All I want is to see you dead!" SC-6661 raised his blaster pistol, laughing. . . But BA-0005 aimed quickly and fires off the signal flare.

It flashed like a rocket across the distance between them, slamming into SC-6661's chest, and engulfing him in flames! SC-6661 screamed and staggered backwards out of sight, arms flailing, and once again his screams seemed to trigger the howling fury of the ghostly presence.

BA-0005 got out of there as fast as he could, back to where HE-6464 and Newman were digging upwards like maniacs. Four feet into the roof. Urged on the by renewed cacophony of terrifying voices.

The flare they were using for illumination was fizzling out. . ed. and in the strobe-like flickering of the light, the faces of the mummified plague victims seem to come alive, just for a subliminal split-second at a time, hinting at the haunting identical faces of the clonetroopers shot in the pit.

. . . BA-0005 fired the third and last flare into the corner. Then jumped up to help HE-6464 and Newman, tearing at the roof with his bare hands. But something was coming at them again; dragging itself towards them from the darkness. . . BA-0005 took the spade back from Newman. Kneeled on HE-6464's shoulder. Pushed himself higher. Digging... two meters upwards. Hacking through roots, now. Earth poured down around him...

An inhuman growl from SC-6661 as he staggered into the circle of flickering light, horribly burned and smoldering...

Newman cried out!

BA-0005 burst through the roof! Dirt and grass and snow spill down as the storm above whistled through the tiny opening. . . and SC-6661 charged!

BA-0005 dropped down from HE-6464's shoulder as SC-6661 bulldozed into them, slashing indiscriminately with a vibroblade, and now totally insane! BA-0005 grappled with SC-6661, yelling to the others, "Out! Get out!"

Newman didn't argue. Scrambled up through the tiny opening, boosted by HE-6464. SC-6661 tossed BA-0005 aside like a doll, and went for HE-6464, stabbing at him with one hand whilst pulling at Newman's legs with the other. BA-0005 dragged SC-6661 away. Pushed Newman upwards so he could crawl out. Tried to help the bleeding HE-6464 back onto his feet... then all hell broke loose!

The wall seemed to shift behind them, and mummified corpses spilled out around them, limbs everywhere, which seemed to suddenly grab at BA-0005 and HE-6464. Holding them against the wall! They struggled in horror!

SC-6661 was coming for them again. The last flare was fizzling out. The light spluttering and dying. . .

And behind SC-6661, seemingly closing in to watch the kill, was the line of ghostly figures, fleeting glimpses of faces and old armor, strongly suggested the prisoner clones massacred in the pit. SC-6661 attacked again, and a grisly, three-way wrestling match began amidst the tangle of clawing, mummified arms.

BA-0005 was stabbed once in the shoulder. Fought back furiously, partially breaking free from the grasping arms, and tried to twist the vibroblade out of SC-6661's grip. HE-6464 went for SC-6661's throat. But SC-6661 pulled himself from BA-0005's grip, and plunged the vibroblade into HE-6464's chest.

With a final, supreme dying effort, HE-6464 grabbed SC-6661's wrists in an durasteel grip, and held the vibroblade into his own chest, trapping it! To BA-0005 with his last breath, "Get out!"

BA-0005 hesitated for a split second, looking into HE-6464's dying eyes. SC-6661 was struggling to pull the vibroblade free in order to turn on BA-0005, raging incoherently. Then, in one swift motion, BA-0005 grabbed the last grenade lodged in the top of SC-6661's boot and clawed his way up towards the opening above. The rotting arms seemed to pull at his armor trying to drag him back.

Newman was calling from above, "Grab my hand!"

Behind BA-0005, SC-6661 finally dragged the vibroblade free from HE-6464, who fell over dead. Then SC-6661 lunged after BA-0005. Pulling at his legs. Raising the vibroblade to strike. . .

BA-0005 grabbed Newman's hand. Hauled himself up through the tangle of tree-roots. With the freezing storm roaring around them, Newman pulled BA-0005 half-way out from the tight, crumbling hole in the ground. BA-0005 slumped to one side, still kicking at SC-6661's grasping hands, stamping him back down.

He ripped the cap from the grenade. Popped the fuse. Dropped it down the hole.

The grenade dropped at SC's feet. He kicks it away and tries one more time to scramble up through the hole. But he's tangled in the gruesome web of grasping arms. And now the ghostly figures, too, crowded around, pressing down on him...

The grenade exploded.

O

BA-0005 and Newman were already running for it as a huge area of snow-covered ground behind them shuddered upwards from the subterranean blast, then sank back with a dull thud.

The storm continued to blow, piling fresh snow on top of the cracked, uneven depression, slowly covering it up.

P

The snow-storm had abated, to be replaced by a slow, silent shower of snowflakes.

BA-0005 and Newman were huddled together in a shelter carved from a snow-drift at the base of a tree, still trembling from the horrors of the night as much as from the cold. BA-0005 sighed wearily, puffed on a cigarra as he approached the end of a quietly spoken story, ". . . some of them were still alive when the pit was filled in. Then we were sent back to the barracks as if nothing had happened. All part of the day's work."

He sat quietly for a few moments, thinking. "We told ourselves they were rebels; enemy infiltrators. But they were probably deserters from our own ranks. Old clones who had gotten fed up with following mindless orders day after day. Better for us that we never knew. But in the end, what's the difference?"

Newman sat silently, letting the story sink in. Whilst he did so, BA-0005 reached deep inside his leg pouch. Pulled out a small, flat black box. Newman watched as he opened it up. Inside was an Medal of Valor, 1st Class.

Newman looked up at BA-0005. He opened his mouth to ask something, but realized he already knew the answer. "Some beings couldn't understand why I stopped wearing it."

BA-0005 closed the box, pushed it deep down into the snow, and covered it over. "But there won't be much glory for the wearers of those. Nor any mothers proud of their sons for wearing this armor. If you've any sense you'll save your courage for when this war's over. That's when you'll really need it."

BA-0005 struggled to his feet with finality, forcing his exhausted, aching body upright. "It's light enough, now."

He trudged quietly forward towards a snow-covered ridge, then carefully and silently crawled up to look over the top. Newman quietly approached behind as BA-0005 peered through his macrobinoculars.

The frozen dirt-road and the bunker were visible through the trees in the distance. At the rear of the bunker, several green-uniformed Rebel Alliance troopers were milling around. The unmistakable, gray uniformed figure of Mirus was with them. An armed guard stood next to him as he tried to converse with an Rebel officer. He was clearly nervous, sick and confused - but, at least, alive.

BA-0005 pulled back from the lip of the ridge and turned to Newman. "Have you got a handkerchief?"

Newman shook his head. BA-0005 pulled out his own and gave it to him. "Here, wave it. Don't try to hide. Just walk straight down. You'll be alright."

"But aren't you coming? After everything you said. . ."

BA-0005 shook his head. "I can't get out of it that easily. I have to stick it out to the end, now. But for you, it's Empire Day. You've been given another chance. Now get going."

BA-0005's voice was suddenly harsh, and Newman reluctantly did as he was told. But after a few steps he paused. "Mirus told me. . . he told me this was a place where the dead come back" paused, "But we didn't really see anything, did we? It was nerve gas, made us see things, hear things, drove SC-6661 mad?

BA-0005 didn't answer, and after a moment Newman turned away again and headed off through the trees, down towards the bunker.

BA-0005 watched Newman go, then turned and trudged off in the opposite direction.

Q

The depression in the ground was covered over completely, now. All that was visible was a smooth, white concave sheet of virgin snow.

Underground. Blackness. A muffled groaning, as if someone had suddenly woken. Then a shuffling panic.

A click, and a cigarra sparkstick flickered into life. . . illuminating the tiny pocket of dusty air into which SC-6661 was crushed under tons of rubble. Only his head and one arm were free in the narrowest of cramped, confined spaces. Burned, battered and torn but, incredibly, still ticking, for the moment. And, unfortunately for him, a vestige of sanity and comprehension seemed to have returned.

It took him a second to fully recognize his predicament.

Buried alive!

And as if that's not enough. . . as the horrifying realization slowly sank in. . . he began to hear a scratching sound. As if something was beginning to claw its way through the rubble towards him. Getting closer.

Womp rats?

Or something else...?

SC-6661 struggled furiously, but could barely move an inch. Panic set in. Can't breathe! The cigarra sparkstick began to sputter and die. . .

The scratching got louder and closer... until the tiny flame died and blackness closed in.

Then SC-6661 screamed!

END


End file.
